Allies
by DuckiePray
Summary: Three and a half years after "Comfort & Joy", a hidden threat is about to emerge. For as long as the turtles have had friends, they've possessed the urge to protect them at all costs. When overtaken by disaster, however, those instincts are put to the ultimate test.
1. Homecoming

***Happy Summer, my friends, and may I just say...here we go again. :) I was in the midst of writing a drabble a couple of months ago for my family/romance oneshot series, and the short story took on a life of its own. I literally abandoned my drabbles to work full-time on the off-shoot fic. **

**There's a little catching up to do for this one, even if you're familiar with my regular series. Three and a half years have passed since Comfort & Joy, and there have been many changes. (Some of which were hinted at within my drabbles themselves. ;) If you've never read my series, you're going to encounter several unfamiliar faces. I'll bring you up to speed as we go along, or you have the option of checking out my Facebook page, Legacy of Loyalty. It includes profiles and a little background on all of my original characters.**

**I do not own the TMNT, or follow an existing story-line within the canon. The snippets of a song that appear in this chapter are from "Memories", which is by Within Temptation.**

**I'm not sure how I feel about this fic yet. I only know that it needed to be written, whether I'm happy with the final result or not. Thank you for reading and reviewing...thank you for being my friends. Whether you're a small-time fanfiction author like myself, or one of the most epic ninjas of all times, those relationships matter. Sometimes they're the difference between life and death. Sometimes they just _change_ your life.**

**I will leave you with one quote before temporarily signing off and letting the fic take over: ****"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art…It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival." C.S. Lewis**

* * *

_Usually when I try to focus on the details of what happened, rational thought escapes me. Rather than memories of real events, there are pictures, fragments of moments interspersed with fear that sometimes grips me in the middle of the night._

_It's not as if we hadn't been in mortal danger before - there are too many occasions to count. It certainly wasn't the first time we've been set up. But out of all the enemies we've faced and the number of injuries _I've_ survived, I can't remember feeling that helpless or impotent._

_I never imagined what I'd be able to sacrifice when I _had_ no other choice. It came down to me. It wasn't fair! I shouldn't have had to choose on my own. I was responsible for the decision that determined whether or not my brothers and I would survive._

_If it had only concerned _me_, my choice might have been different. When I look back now, I don't regret my decision, but I'll never be able to forget what it felt like. Risking that which I'd always sworn to protect was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do._

_But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? It makes more sense to start at the beginning of it all. We thought we knew what we were getting into. We're not the same turtles we were as teenagers. We learned not to take things for granted, and to prepare for every possible scenario. No matter what we _thought_ we knew, that night was a game-changer for all of us. _

_It reminds me of something Sensei used to say: 'Your greatest risk doesn't exist in times of trouble and adversity, but when you're resting in the complacency of peace. Your guard is much lower when you feel secure than when you understand the true danger lurking in the shadows..._

* * *

(Two Months Earlier)

Leonardo sighed longingly. They were closer to the action than he'd imagined they would be, but he _still _wished he could see things better. Despite Donatello's repeated offer of digital binoculars, watching the scene through the zoom lens wasn't completely satisfying.

The blue-masked turtle looked away from the Amphitheatre, glancing at Michelangelo out of the corner of his eye. The youngest turtle was lounging on the grassy overlook as though he was on a picnic, but his crossed arms indicated that he hadn't gotten over being irritated.

"We coulda brought them, Leo," Mike said sullenly. "No one's gonna bother us up here. Even if they tried, we'd be long gone before they caught up to us _or_ the kids."

Leo gave him a wry smile. "I've heard your side of the argument in fine detail. You were outnumbered on this one; don't look at me like I'm the killjoy."

"If you'd give this a chance—"

Raphael's arm clapped across the orange-masked turtle's shell. "It's just one night, Mikey, and the kids are having all kinds of fun at home. You know Hisui spoils 'em when we're not around. They couldn't wait for us to get out the door."

Mike wasn't giving up easily. "I'm just saying, we want them to be exposed to stuff like this right? That's why we don't take them away entirely. They would have loved the show."

"This won't be their last opportunity for all of time and eternity, Mike," Don offered.

"We can barely see anything as it is," Leo murmured.

"I see plenty," Donatello returned. "You would too if you'd _use_ the binoculars. There are plenty of pairs to go around, Bro. Don't you want to see your girl?"

"I've _looked_; I haven't found her yet."

"That's 'cause her and Kari's group aren't up for another ten minutes," Raphael supplied.

"The program said—"

"Karina texted me; things got delayed, Fearless. Don't get your shell in a knot over nothing. You're still gonna get to see them."

Leonardo huffed softly and shifted positions on the ground. In the crowded Amphitheatre beneath them lay a large crowd of shadowed figures, all waiting for the program to catch up to its original schedule.

Tonight's "field-trip" to New Jersey was about much more than entertainment. It not only marked the début of Karina's and Calley's first set of students to the Festival, but it was also a homecoming of sorts for his blond-haired wife. Calley's excitement over the return to a Theatre she'd danced in during her youth had been infectious for weeks. A smile returned to his face as he pictured the woman getting ready for the stage.

The last three years had been a blur of changes for their entire family. Despite Leonardo's initial reluctance to leave the only home the turtles had ever known to move into the historic train station, he recognized the time had come to leave the comfortable nest Splinter had foraged for them when they were young. _As overwhelming as it felt, the changes were needed_, he reaffirmed. _We ran out of room to grow in the old Den. Our group expanded a lot more than we anticipated it could._

The renovations and customization of the underground station had taken over a year, and the redesigning of the building that stood over it took almost another two. Their family and close friends all had space of their own in a nicer format than Leonardo had ever dreamed of, yet they'd already grown closer in that time. _I never thought I'd see the day when a "house call" from Doc would require nothing more than an elevator ride. It's crazy how much has changed in the last couple of years. I guess that's what happens when all of our smartest people band together for a common cause._

The flash of spotlights near the distant stage caused Leonardo to perk up and reach for his gifted binoculars. He focused first on the middle of the platform and then swept over to the far right side, where the outline of a woman was hovering near the curtain out of the brighter stage-lights. He recognized Karina after a moment and exhaled. _They must be really close._

Leonardo stayed fixed on that spot, expecting that Calley would appear from the same place. The curtain stirred behind the bronze-haired woman and several smaller figures passed by Karina, seeking out positions on the stage. He glanced over the youths briefly, recognizing each of the students.

He'd watched the girls coming to and leaving the studio almost every week on the video feed, but was looking forward to seeing the real fruit of Karina's and Calley's labor with them. At the same time, he couldn't help wondering where his _wife_ was. The ten-year-olds were nervous; he could read the butterflies in their posture, but their expressions were relaxed.

When a familiar instrumental began building from the orchestra pit, the blue-masked turtle adjusted the viewfinder to take in a wider picture of the platform. He'd heard the song so many times between Karina's choreographing and Jenna's rehearsing, it occasionally replayed in his dreams.

Hearing it live with the sound of a full band behind it along with the anticipation of seeing the dance gave him a much grander, soaring feeling. Leonardo shifted his binoculars over the musicians until he located Jenna. The raven-haired woman refused to stand at the forefront, but her voice permeated the outdoor theatre like she was everywhere at once.

"_In this world you tried_

_Not leaving me alone behind_

_There's no other way_

_I prayed to the God, let him stay_

_The memories ease the pain inside_

_Now I know why…"_

Leonardo couldn't resist glancing back at Donatello, and he grinned over his purple-masked brother's intent "listening" look. He almost said something to the younger turtle, but decided to let him enjoy the moment. Instead he returned his attention to the stage and the dance that was unfolding without him.

The dazzling colors of the young girls' costumes created a kaleidoscope effect that was stunning to watch, even through the limited view of binoculars. Pride swelled over the work and training that their wives and the students had put into the routine, but a pang of regret followed it. _This is one of those times when I wish I _was_ normal. I'd love to meet their students in person…but we can't afford to keep growing, or we're going to have to build a skyscraper._ He almost chuckled, and the negative feeling dissipated.

"_Together in all these memories_

_I see your smile_

_All the memories I hold dear_

_Darling, you know I'll love you 'til the end of time…"_

Leonardo clenched the binoculars tighter when he saw the curtain stir once more, and another figure emerged in white. From the height of the dancer alone, he knew it had to be Calley. She flowed seamlessly inside of the girls' existing choreography, melding with each of the other dancers in turn like a gentle breeze that had overtaken the platform.

"_All of my memories keep you near_

_In silent moments, imagine you'd be here_

_All of my memories keep you near_

_Your silent whispers, silent tears_

_All of my memories…"_

Calley didn't approach the front of the stage until the ending of the song, and that was when he could finally capture the joy in her face. The way she tilted her head made him feel like she knew he was watching, and the sudden urge to clap along with audience below was strong.

The only way the moment would have been better was if he could have supported Calley on the front-lines with the rest of their family. He couldn't make out their friends in the darkened seating, but he knew they'd formed their own cheering section as close to the stage as possible. Only Hisui and her boyfriend Kouhei remained at home that night with the children, giving everyone else the chance to attend the Festival.

Several of the others had offered to stay farther off with the turtles, but they'd pushed the humans to sit in the Amphitheatre_. Just because we have to be penalized for what we are doesn't mean _they_ have to be. Our family does enough for us._

"Thank you. Thank you all very much." The sound of Karina's voice drew Leonardo to the other side of the platform. "It means so much for us to be a part o—" The woman was mid-sentence when the sound inexplicably cut out.

In the time it took for Leonardo's eye-ridges to rise, the stage-lights were also plunged into darkness. He lowered his binoculars and turned to his younger brothers. "_That's _weird."

Mike snickered. "Not as weird as the Superdome losing power in the middle of the Superbowl. Donny, they might need your help down there, Bro."

Raphael growled under his breath. "Shut it, Pipsqueak; this ain't funny. They're supposed to be doing another number. Somebody better be fixing it."

The purple-masked turtle shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time that an outdoor event—"

An explosion of rapid gunfire made Leonardo jerk to his feet in shock. He sensed his brothers instantly huddle up behind him, but there was little else they could do but listen as the gunfire unloaded a second time, somewhere underneath them in the Amphitheatre.

"Semi-automatic…gotta be some kind of assault rifle," Don said tightly.

Panic struck the crowd before Leonardo could orient where the sound originated from. He made a split-second decision to move without announcing a plan, but giving directions to his brothers was unnecessary. He was mid-run when he noticed Don fiddling with his binoculars.

"Switching to infrared! We need to get some eyes down there, Leo!"

The blue-masked turtle was nodding his agreement when he felt his phone vibrate. He didn't bother looking at the facing of the device before he answered. "Talk to me!"

"Leo, you guys need to hold your position!" Greg's familiar voice barked at him.

"Not happening, Heff!"

The man cursed. "Just _once_, would you listen to me without putting up a fight?"

Leonardo didn't get to reply, because the simultaneous blast of gunfire echoed through the Amphitheatre a third time, and much louder through the speaker of the phone held up to his ear.


	2. Threat

When the gunfire started, Calley's first instinct was to hit the deck; but her _second _instinct was to get their young students out of harm's way. The woman stretched out her arms to the shadowy figures within reach, and rapidly herded three of them to the back of the stage. The unmistakable report of automatic gunfire made her shoulders tense with every pulse, and her heart raced with the uncertainty of life or death.

Two more girls dashed by Calley, and she heard Karina yell something in Spanish. Her head jerked around to see the bronze-haired woman physically carrying the last girl who'd frozen up.

The ground of the Amphitheatre was a sight of mass hysteria. Hundreds of indistinguishable people crowded against one another, searching for an escape from the ungodly onslaught. Somewhere in the madness were their family and friends, and the fear of something happening to them was like a vise constricting her throat and cutting off her air supply.

The sobbing of a girl at her feet brought Calley back to the reality of the danger _they_ were still in, and she immediately covered the child with her arms protectively. A third round of gunfire made her huddle closer to the ground with the cowering ten-year-olds, as if the material of the curtains could somehow deflect bullets.

Calley took a deep breath and forced steadiness into her voice. "Girls, I want all of you stay down. Nobody move unless we say so!"

"Miss Calley…" a small voice whimpered.

"Shh," she urged. "Be very quiet. Everything is going to be all right. We won't let anything happen to you!" Calley jumped when a hand grazed her back, but it only turned out to be Karina.

"Are you okay_, hermana_?" Karina asked under breath.

"Yes." She craned her neck to look in the direction of the audience, though they couldn't see them from behind the curtain. "Do you think…" Calley didn't finish the question, swallowing while concern threatened to overwhelm her. For as well as she knew the turtles, she _also _knew that they wouldn't hold their ground at a safe distance. _Leo and the guys are the experts, but I wish they didn't have to risk their necks _every_ time!_

The screams of the multitudes hadn't subsided, despite the lack of further gunfire. _Did they run out of bullets? Did someone take them down? Are they reloading as we wait here? How many people could have been…_She didn't have the ability to complete that question either.

Beside her, Karina tugged her arm. "I think we should try moving again, get the girls into the dressing room and lock the door until we hear something."

Calley nodded. "Quietly. We don't need to draw attention when gunmen could still be out there."

Karina straightened up and took the lead. "Girls, we're going back to the dressing room. We feel like it's a safer place for your parents to meet us."

"Is my mom and dad okay?"

"How will they know where to find us?"

"What if the guns come back?"

Calley cleared her throat before any more questions could be voiced. "We're sorry, guys. We don't have any of the answers for you now, but we're going to make sure you're safe. We'll get through this together, okay?" She wished she could give them true protection from whatever monster had been unleashed that evening, but the promise that she and Karina wouldn't leave them to fend for themselves was the best she could do.

As they worked their way back to the dressing area, she sensed the girls calming, however slightly. Calley had to shake her head. _I can barely remember a time in my life when the mere presence of an adult was the only thing needed to give assurance against danger._ She closed her eyes briefly, and banished the inner vision of a gunman lurking nearby.

Once they reached the back hallway there were emergency lights to guide them, and directing their dancers to the dressing room was a easier task. Calley considered following the girls into the space, but hesitated when Karina paused outside the door.

"I've got to try and reach someone," the Latin woman murmured. "We need to find out where _our_ people are, and their parents have to be worried sick."

Calley sighed shakily. "I could keep the girls busy in the meantime. A few distractions are just what they need to stay calm."

"You might try—" Karina started, but then covered her ears as harsh feedback sounded through the Amphitheatre speakers. "What on earth?" She looked down the hall toward the stage. "_Tell_ me they aren't working to restore the sound before the lights!"

"They have to settle people down," Calley reasoned. "They could be trying to make an announcement to help restore order." The blond woman cocked her head when the static repeated, but this time a voice followed it.

_"Enjoy the show, Jersey? You ain't seen nothing yet."_

The cruelly familiar voice resonated in her ears for a couple of seconds before a tidal wave of terror struck her down.

* * *

The abrupt feeling of motion collided with her senses, drawing Calley's eyes to open. Confusion was the next thing to register, and the woman realized she was in someone's arms. She automatically twisted in the unknown grip.

"It's all right, Calley; you can relax." Brandon's voice cut through the shadows, and her breath released with a great shudder.

"What happened? Where…where's Karina?"

"Kari's fine," he assured her. "She stayed with your girls to make sure they'd be reunited with their families. Don't worry. We aren't going to leave without my little sister." His voice was even, but she could tell his calm demeanor wasn't natural.

"What _happened_?" she repeated. "I know I'm missing something." Calley tensed when the memory of the gunfire washed over her. "Did people die?" she whispered.

Brandon ducked his head. "They aren't telling us anything yet. All of _our_ family is present and accounted for, which should bring you some peace. I'm taking you back to the van – the guys are already waiting there."

"Then they didn't try to get involved in the gunfight?"

"They _tried_, Calley, but everything happened really fast. I don't know if anyone got a good look at the shooters."

"There _was_ more than one?"

"At least two. It was hard to be sure of anything in the middle of the chaos, but shots definitely came from a couple different places."

Calley frowned, remembering how she and Karina had bustled the dancers off stage. She still didn't understand the gap that existed between the dressing room and waking up with Brandon. "I passed out?"

Brandon nodded. "Karina said you went down after that first voice came over the speaker. The officials won't say whether they thought it was one of the shooters or someone's idea of a nasty joke."

Her eyes widened suddenly as a gasp tore through her throat. That voice. The impossible voice from her past was reaching out to taunt her.

"Calley, it's okay!" Brandon was quick to try to soothe her again. "You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you."

"I…I have to talk to the police. I have to find someone. I know who it was!"

Brandon stopped mid-step. "What do you mean?"

She barely heard the question; she was too busy trying to put the pieces together in her mind. _It was him. That message was for _me_. But why? Why now, why like this? It doesn't make any sense. Am I going crazy? No, Brandon said he heard the message too. I wasn't panicking. I was plenty calm enough to help with the girls. Then that voice—_

"Calley, what's _wrong_?" Brandon demanded. "Could you try breathing?"

She swallowed and met the man's anxious gaze. "Just get me to the turtles. I'll explain everything when we're together."

* * *

Calley understood why she was the center of concern by the time they arrived at the van, but she was desperate to redirect everyone to the problem at hand. "I know how crazy this is going to sound, but you _have_ to listen to me. That message, wherever it came from, it wasn't meant for the crowd. He was talking to me."

Raphael's brow creased. "But the guy said—"

She held up a hand to stop him. "He said _Jersey_. That was what Viper used to call me; the nickname I ran under when I was with the Dagos. It was the perfect veiled threat because we're _in_ New Jersey, but it wasn't for those people. The gang is involved in this. I don't know why, or what they could hope to accomplish, but it was _them_."

Calley gazed at the faces surrounding her, waiting for someone else to speak. Finally she focused on Leonardo, praying that there wouldn't be doubt in the blue-masked turtle's eyes.

"You're sure it was him?" he asked.

"I'm positive. I'd know his voice anywhere, Leo! I get that this doesn't make sense. I can't explain what they would want from me, or wh-why they'd hurt innocent people." Her voice broke as she dissolved into tears for the first time.

Leonardo's arms came around her and she buried her face against his shoulder. "Calley, we'll get to the bottom of this," he said into ear. "But no matter what happens, or what the motivation for this attack was, you're not responsible for it. You reacted to protect people. You made sure those girls got to safety."

"And then I fainted," she proclaimed bitterly. Calley lifted her head, wiping her eyes fiercely.

"You were inside very upsetting circumstances," Donatello said quietly. "You can't control every physical reaction."

She squared her shoulders, backing away from Leonardo. "I feel like I have to go to the police, guys. They'll probably think I'm crackers, but I don't care. I can't withhold this information in good conscience."

"Do you know this guy's real name?" Raphael asked.

She eyed the red-masked turtle, but was satisfied he wasn't patronizing her. "I knew him before he was a real gangbanger. I'll go to the police right now, on the record. Whatever this is, it's not over. He said so. Someone's got to pull the plug before they have the chance to hurt or kill anyone else!"

Her rapid speech appeared to startle the other turtles, but Leonardo was unfazed.

"Why don't we go through our own sources first, Calley, and see what Greg and Kat's FBI connections can come up with?" Leo suggested. "I don't have a problem with you going to the police, but this might require some background work."

The woman snorted. "You mean they're going to need more proof than the witness of a former druggie and gang member."

"Calley, I didn't—"

"I know that isn't what you meant, Leo, but it's the truth, and I know it. We need more proof than my recognition of his voice."

"We don't think you're crazy, Calley," Mike said confidently. "We've got your back." His smile was out of place for the circumstances, but it was so natural for the turtle that it felt appropriate.

"Let me get Greg on the phone," Don offered. "We'll start research on this ASAP."

Brandon chuckled. "That's the beauty of calling in the Watchmen. Cut out all the useless crap like warrants and get down to business."

Raphael's eyes narrowed. "It's gonna be some _ugly_ business too, you can count on that."

Calley felt Leonardo's mute gaze and turned to face him. "I know you don't see me by the tags from my past, Leo, but it doesn't mean the police won't. Going through our own connections first is the right thing to do."

The troubled look in his dark eyes didn't falter. "Something's going to go down, Calley, and I have a feeling it's going to be big. There _was_ a reason behind this assault. Even though we don't know what it is yet, their challenge was clear. We won't stop until we find these people, and put them away for good."

* * *

***If you haven't read chapter 9 of my fic, "Drabbles of the Heart", now would be a good time to do so. It takes place in the past, but that particular Oneshot set some background for Allies. It will all start to become clearer soon.**


	3. Morning After

***One of the reasons I enjoyed writing Allies, was because it gave me a chance to do more with the kids. The _future_ aspect of this story gave me a wider range of ages to play with, and even the occasion to lead from one of their perspectives. **

**I moved in with my sister over three years ago to help take care of her four young children. The inspiration for the fictional kids comes entirely from my own niece and nephews, down to their mannerisms, behaviour, and speech patterns. In the case of Jayden, I flagrantly ripped off one of my twin nephew's personalities.**

**I couldn't love my niece and nephews more than if they were my own children. Maybe someday when they're older, I'll look back and share these stories with them, so they can see exactly what they inspired.**

* * *

_Calley isn't the type to panic or get extremely emotional in the middle of an emergency. That's _part _of the reason I was so certain about her hunch that the Dagos were involved in the attack at the Amphitheatre._ _It'd been a long time since any of us had seen Calley that upset – not since we first met her._

_You can say what you want about Calley's past, but she's not the same person she was years ago. She's focused, compassionate, and above all else, intuitive. Without even discussing it among ourselves, my brothers and I knew we had to take her word at face value and start an investigation of our own._

_If we'd recognized the gang's motivation then, or had any inkling of what was really in store, we might have tread more cautiously. Of course, that would have been easier if we'd simply been following up the shooting without harboring concern over the threat against one of our loved ones. If we'd faced the situation with cool, unbiased minds, we might have handled things differently. It's sort of useless to think this way _now, _but hopefully it's a lesson that will stick._

_All we had to go on at first was a single name, but that man kicked off a wild goose chase that ended in one of the biggest disasters we've ever faced…_

* * *

The shifting of the mattress beneath him drew Donatello awake. The turtle turned his head to look up at his raven-haired wife sitting on the edge of their bed. As he sat up farther on his elbows the woman glanced back at him.

"Good morning, Don. I'm going to grab a quick shower before the twins escape their room."

He smiled at her, though the memory of the evening before prevented him from returning the sentiment. "Good luck with that."

"Do you have a lot to do today?"

Donny grunted softly, rubbing his temples. "The list keeps getting longer. Debugging the security sensors alone has taken up most of the last couple days, and it's _still_ not finished."

Jenna squeezed his wrist sympathetically. "Rome wasn't built in a day, Donny, and you can't finish all the upgrades in that time either. You need to set yourself a _reasonable_ schedule, and you've got to start taking more advantage of Jazz."

"I _am_ relying on Jazz."

"Nice try. She was just telling me last night that you're not giving her anything worthwhile to do. Alexis isn't a newborn anymore, and Jazz is ready to come back full-time. The two of you are supposed to be a team – remember?"

"We are." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give Jazz a call after breakfast and see if she's got time to assist me today. I can't put off finishing the new code though, Jen. Our safety is on the line."

Jenna gazed at him severely, resting both hands on her hips. "You're not getting enough rest."

"What's new?"

"You're not a teenage anymore. If you keep burning the candle at both ends, you'll get exhausted again. Do you want to be grounded to your room?"

He shook his head. "Isn't there some rule that you can't be grounded once you have kids of your own?"

"Not as far as Doc is concerned. Why don't you snooze a little longer? It's still early."

Donatello sighed inwardly, but knew better than to openly disagree with the woman. He settled back down on his side to satisfy her, but the moment the door clicked shut, he grabbed his phone off the side-table. With a couple of clicks he signed onto the internet and skipped to a newsfeed.

A lump formed in his throat as he read the top headline. _Seven dead, twenty-four injured at New Jersey Festival shooting…_The turtle shut down the window and closed his eyes briefly. _I'll hear all the details soon enough._ He curled up under the comforter unhappily, feeling the sting of regret over their failure to get anywhere near the gunmen. _We can't be everywhere, but I don't understand how those guys managed to disappear that quickly._

Donny huffed as he shifted positions on his pillow. _This is pointless. I'm not going back to sleep _now_. I'd be better off dealing with the faulty code – at least it's distracting. _

The quiet squeal of the bedroom door made him raise his head, but the shared laughter that came after caused him to duck back down. _Jen wasn't fast _enough_. _Don listened silently while two figures crept inside the room. He watched through nearly closed eyes as Jayden's head poked around the dresser, and repressed a smile as the toddler rapidly withdrew from sight.

"Hmm. I hope there are no _monsters_ waiting to scare me before I go back to sleep," he announced casually and was rewarded with another giggle. "Who's out there?"

A low growl answered him this time, and he pretended to hide under the blanket.

"Don't hurt me, _Kaijuu_ (Beast)."

The responding snarl was louder, and small hands yanked on the blanket.

"No! I'm not in here!"

Jayden's head poked under the comforter as the young turtle scaled the side of the bed. "RAH!"

The purple-masked turtle's chuckle turned into a grunt as his son collided with his plastron like a bowling ball. "Ooff! You're too _big_, Jayden!"

It wasn't an exaggeration. The three-and-a-half-year-old turtle was already as tall as his five-year-old cousin Nate, and definitely more solid. The affectionate nickname of "Beast" had been applied to the toddler ever since they discovered Jayden's early muscle development months before.

From the time of their infancy, Donatello had harbored anxiety over the lives of his twins. The number of weeks they'd spent in Yasir's laboratory before they were even born was still a disconcerting thought. No one knew what kind of impact the alien scientist could have made in his meddling with Jenna, but the fact that he'd interfered was clear.

Donny knew something was different with the twins from the first opportunity he'd had to examine their blood samples in the days after they were born. One of the most notable twists was the complete _lack_ of a particular stem cell that had proven troublesome to their mutations in the past, before Caleb had learned how to suppress the cell's destructive tendencies.

A day didn't go by that the purple-masked turtle relented from pondering over Yasir's influence on the twins' genetic code. Thus far it hadn't negatively impacted their health, but he suspected that it was responsible for Jayden's early muscle capacity, in addition to Charlotte's rapid language development and reading comprehension.

"Daddy, what are you _doing?_" Charlotte squealed from the end of the bed.

He cast the comforter backwards, trapping the little girl underneath it. "Uh oh. Where'd your sister go, Jay-Jay?"

"Daddy, I'm under here! Under here!" Even slightly muffled by the blanket, Charlotte's speech was more concise than Don could remember any of the other young ones having at her age.

"Help me find her, Jayden!"

His son jerked one side of the comforter while he pulled the other, and they cast the blanket aside. Charlotte popped up with raised arms and a cry of triumph.

"Here I am!" She bounced excitedly on her knees until she collided with her brother, and Jayden threw his arms around her shell as far as he could reach.

The impromptu wrestling match didn't concern Don. For all of Jayden's young strength and playfulness, his sweet disposition prevented him from bullying his twin or Nathaniel. It was more of a romp than a real fight, but Donatello _did_ stop them short of rolling off the bed.

"Okay, you guys!" He laughed and set both toddlers down on the floor. "Are either of you _hungry_ by any chance?"

Jayden hopped in the direction of the door. "I _always_ hungry!"

Don groaned. "I believe it, Jay-Jay."

"I want eggs and bacon and sausage and pancakes – that's all!"

Donatello forced a serious expression. "Uh huh. And what do you want, Charlotte?"

"Um…I want grapes, and blueberries."

"That could do, for starters. C'mon, you two; let's go see who else is awake."

Charlotte grabbed his leg and hugged it tight, staying firmly attached while Donatello walked into the hall. Jayden raced ahead of them toward the stairs, prompting the purple-masked turtle to call after him.

"Slow down, Jayden!" He pried his daughter off of his leg and boosted Charlotte into his arms before starting down the steps.

A small sense of pride returned as Donatello took in the sight of the lower level of their renovated train station. The project had been a labor of love and the entire family had participated in _some_ aspect, but the job was still _his_ baby. The finishes and materials they'd used made their underground dwelling feel more like a real home, and less like the cold, abandoned space it _had _been.

Gone were the ever-present concrete floors he'd grown up, replaced with laminate and rugs. Actual drywall constructed many of the rooms the growing family needed, though most of the lower level had been left wide open. There was no separation between the kitchen and the Great Room, which possessed enough seating not only for them, but for the extended family who ended up underground more often than not.

The blaring of the news broke Donatello out of introspection over their home, and made the purple-masked turtle sigh. On the couch his oldest brother glanced over his shoulder at him, and immediately muted the TV.

"Hey. I didn't expect to see you yet."

Donny set down Charlotte so she could run after her brother. "Are you implying that anyone can actually sleep in this house?"

"You seem to get less of it than anyone," his brother said reproachfully.

"It's not like I can lock the kids out."

Leonardo's dark eyes bored into him. "You can't do it all, Don."

"Shell, I _know_, okay? I'm already getting it from Jen, Leo." He felt bad for snapping, so he offered the blue-masked turtle a weak smile. "Sorry. It's too early."

Leo's gaze turned thoughtful. "I know what you need."

"Besides the coffeepot you mean?"

"You need a day off."

"That's hilarious, Leo. You have any _more_ jokes to start off the morning?"

"I'm not kidding, Don. Don't make us gang up on you; we won't hesitate if we need to."

"I'll take one project at a time today, all right? But I have to finish debugging the security mode so everything is running concurrently. Those sensors were never meant to be decoration – they're supposed to protect us. If the fail-safes aren't working properly, we're at a greater risk for exposure."

"I get that – but if you don't _plan_ some time off, it won't happen, Don. I guarantee it. Do you want some food to go along with your coffee?"

Donatello looked toward the kitchen, where his orange-masked brother was already in his usual spot at the stove. The twins had found their customary seats around the table along with their other cousins. "I could definitely eat, but…" He glanced back at the TV. "You've been watching this, huh?"

His brother nodded heavily. "Yeah, not that it does any good."

"How'd Calley sleep?"

Leonardo crossed his arms and sank farther against the couch. "Not too well, but she seemed knocked out when _I_ woke up. Sometimes I feel like she's never going to get a break."

The way the blue-masked turtle's countenance darkened almost made Donny sorry that he's asked, but the subject needed to be broached. "She'll be okay, Leo. Calley has been through much worse."

"But there's nothing I can say to make her feel better about those deaths."

"Those _are_ just feelings , Leo. Deep down, Calley already knows it wasn't her fault. We just have to keep reminding her until it gets through to her heart."

Leo nodded silently, but it was obvious he was bogged down with more things he _wasn't_ saying yet.

The rush of small feet drew both of them to turn and see another nearly three-year-old turtle bounding toward the couch with an oversized muffin clutched in both hands.

"Daddy, wan'a bite?"

A weary smile emerged on Leo's face. "Uh…sure, Tim." He nibbled off the edge of the top to satisfy his young one.

Tim hopped from one foot to the other excitedly. "More?"

Leonardo chuckled. "No, that's okay. You go on back to the table and finish your muffin, all right?"

"Okay!"

"Little" Tim (as he was often referred to in the presence of his grandfather and namesake) raced off to the table, and Leo shot Donny another smile.

"It's a pretty far cry from our early meals, huh, Don?"

The purple-masked turtle snorted. "Sensei would say we're too soft on them. Need to instill more manners."

Leo shook his head. "I doubt he'd say that about his grandkids. He'd probably be too busy spoiling them."

Don didn't have the chance to respond, because the buzz of the elevator indicated that someone was on their way down from the main building.

Greg hurriedly exited the doors when they opened, looking as though he'd _dressed_ just as quickly.

Leonardo was on his feet at once. "Heff, what's going on? Did you get a hit on the name Calley gave you?"

The sandy-haired man sighed noisily. "I got a hit all right; I'm just not sure it's the one we wanted. Jackson Russo is already locked up, Leo. He's been in jail for at least two days. Whatever happened at the Amphitheatre last night, he couldn't have been there."


	4. Seniority

"So…where does that leave us?" Someone had to ask the question, and the orange-masked turtle was the first one bold enough to do so.

"I already did some more digging on this Jackson character, just to see what I could find on him," Greg said slowly. "He has several priors on his record, but they're more than a decade old. There's this huge gap between his early twenties and the domestic violence charge from a couple of days ago. That alone is really weird."

"It's not as strange as you think."

Mike was ashamed to inwardly admit he had no clue Calley had come up behind them until the woman joined the conversation.

"You have to consider the hierarchy of a gang," she continued. "When you think about a group like that, you normally associate it with teenagers and young adults. Why? Because they handle all the dangerous 'dirty' work. The more you advance in the ranks, certain tasks become beneath you.

"Someone like Viper who's been in the Dagos for this long, he has to have seniority. That means he wouldn't take part in mundane criminal acts or go out looking for a fight just for kicks. The older members are about the _big_ picture. If a group like that was only built on its younger populace, it wouldn't have a real foundation. It takes the experience and maturity of the senior members for a gang to endure."

Greg looked her direction guiltily. "Jackson is in jail, Calley. He was already locked up, before the assault at the Festival."

The blond woman bit her lip, but her resolve didn't falter. "I'm _not_ crazy. I know what I heard."

"None of us think you are," Leo inserted smoothly. "Even the timing of this feels awfully fishy to me, Heff. Do you believe it would be possible for you and Katherine to get into that jail yourselves and figure out his frame of mind?"

The man smirked. "Sure. It's been a while since we were part of a shake down. This'll be fun."

Calley cleared her throat disapprovingly. "Viper isn't going to intimidate easily, Greg. When he cornered me with a couple of guys years ago, he didn't even react to _Leo_."

The blue-masked turtle's eyes narrowed. "I _could_ have gotten him to react."

The woman's hands turned into clenched fists at her sides. "All I'm saying is, it may be a game to them – but it's not to _us_. The Dagos have a reason for what they did and for calling me out. Whatever you do in the course of a 'private' investigation, you've got to be careful."

"You guys are plotting without me?" The red-masked turtle sauntered into the kitchen, and his cross gaze circled the other three turtles and Greg. "No fair starting this early."

"We're not starting anything; we're only _talking_," Leo emphasized, and glanced back at Greg. "Will you and Kat go today? Can you come up with a legitimate excuse to get in with this guy?"

The man waved off the question. "Coming up with an excuse won't be a problem." He gave Calley a more serious look. "I may have called it fun, Calley, but that's only because I enjoy seeing the bad guys crack."

She shook her head. "You'd better have a good strategy going in, because he won't fluster without a fight."

Leonardo circled an arm around her waist. "It's going to be okay, Calley, I promise."

Mike couldn't fathom the look Calley gave his oldest brother in return, but then, he wasn't the one who was supposed to understand it.

Greg nodded. "I'm going to touch base with Kat then, and we'll let you guys know when we're moving."

Leo flinched suddenly. "Do you think we should say anything about this to Kelley yet?"

"I could probably get my boss to sign off on me interviewing Jackson so that it looks more legit, but I don't want to connect the dots on the shooting in New Jersey for him. Not until we have something more definitive." He exchanged an apologetic glance with Calley.

"I know how it sounds," she muttered. "I don't care. It's the truth."

"Anyway, we'll let you know," Greg finished, scooping up the reports he'd brought downstairs with him. "I'll catch up with you guys later."

As the man left, Raphael pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down backwards. "It's convenient that this guy is already locked up for 'em. Makes it easier to keep the creep in the same spot."

"But if he's been in jail for a couple of days, then it couldn't have been him last night," Calley blurted out. She heaved a giant breath that seemed entirely too large for her. "I don't know. Maybe I _am_ just cracking."

The red-masked turtle's brow furrowed. "Says who? You've got a good gut, Calley. It's a little early to be second-guessing yourself, ain't it?"

Before the woman could answer, the small blue-masked turtle toddled back into the kitchen.

"Mommy!"

Calley's countenance instantly shifted as she reached for the two-year-old. "Morning, Tim. Did you get enough to eat?"

"Uh huh. We watchin' Gubby Buppies."

"Oh, that sounds like fun."

"Yeah, it's a circus wif' cowns. C'mon, Mommy!"

Tim wriggled in her grasp until she put him down, and allowed him to lead her by the hand into the next room.

Leonardo descended heavily into another kitchen chair, and Raphael knuckled his shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Bro," the younger turtle said.

The blue-masked turtle met his gaze with a shrug, but didn't say anything.

Raphael shifted the subject at once. "The kids leave any food, Mikey?"

"Not much," he answered. "Karina offered to take the next wave, but I could start something else if you want."

The red-masked turtle stood with a mighty stretch. "Nah. Some toast could tide me over until she's ready to come down."

Mike barely repressed a snicker. "Uh…yeah, that's not gonna happen. Jayden must have gotten to the toaster sometime last night."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "Donny, if your kid don't stop taking apart the dang toaster we'll have to lock it up. What happened to the spare?"

Mike laughed. "That _was_ the spare!"

The purple-masked turtle sighed. "Just add it to my list, okay? I'll get it taken care of."

Leo raised his head from where it was resting in his arms. "Your list is long _enough_."

"Then I suppose we'll have to go without toast until my three-year-old gets over his fascination with taking things apart."

The orange-masked turtle snorted louder. "He'll probably move on to something bigger next, like the microwave."

Don groaned. "I _told_ Hisui she couldn't let him out of sight for very long. I swear Jayden _looks_ for trouble. I've tried all kinds of toys to keep him occupied, but he keeps gravitating back to the small appliances."

Mike shook his head. "I can't imagine why, Donny. Apple must not fall too far from the tree."

"I swear, I was never this devious…was I?"

The two older turtles exchanged a glance.

"Maybe in a less obvious way," Leo allowed. "Have you considered _giving _him something to take apart?"

"Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of teaching him _not_ to do it?"

Leonardo shook his head. "Not necessarily. I mean, he's _your_ kid, Don. Maybe you shouldn't crush his creativity."

"His destructiveness you mean?"

"If you channel his curiosity into something he's allowed to have, maybe he won't be destructive," the blue-masked turtle explained.

Don massaged his temples. "Why don't you take that task off my hands today, and I'll focus on getting the security feed online."

Leo grinned. "Challenge accepted."

Meanwhile, Raphael seemed to have forgotten about the toaster entirely, and was rooting around in a cabinet instead. "I _knew_ there was another box of Sugar Bombs in here!"

"Don't eat all of them, Raphy!" Michelangelo shook a finger at him.

The red-masked turtle chuckled as he dug around in another cabinet and emerged with a mixing bowl. "I think this'll do me for starters."

"Raph…"

The sight of his curly-haired wife entering the kitchen interrupted Mike's plea for his cereal. Rebecca set down a stack of folders she'd been carrying under her arm and smiled at the orange-masked turtle.

"I just started some water for Nate," she told him. "I think Tim will probably join him, because he never got a bath last night. When I'm finished with them, I need to head up to the office to finish faxing the rest of these before my deadline expires."

Mike grinned back at her. "You go ahead, Beck. I can wrangle those two in the tub, and _these_ guys are old enough to feed themselves." He nodded toward his brothers.

"It's okay, Mike, I've got time—"

"So do I. The sooner you get everything filed, the sooner you can 'commute' home. The Congo won't save itself, y'know." He couldn't resist winking at her. It was so much fun to tease the woman about the short elevator ride to the office in the main building where she worked on her non-profit organization.

The woman sidled up against his plastron to steal a kiss. "I'll go then, but I ought to be back before lunch."

"I'll be waiting."

Michelangelo walked Rebecca to the elevator, and then returned to the long couch where the kids were hanging out. Charlotte was settled on her knees on a cushion, and Jayden was seated on the arm of the couch beside her. Tim was lying upside-down half-way off the furniture, while Olivia was leaning over the coffee table, doodling on lined paper with a magic marker. Nathaniel was scooting around on a small pedal-powered motorcycle, making a circle around the couch.

Mike cracked his knuckles and dove into the sea of children, choosing to first get the marker away from Olivia. "Is that what you're supposed to be writing with, Liv?"

The seven-year-old looked up innocently. "I couldn't find my pencil."

He held out his hand to take the marker away. "They're in the cup next to the rest of the school supplies. Your Mama always keeps a bunch sharpened."

Olivia's lip protruded in irritation. "But Charlotte _took_ them all!"

The orange-masked turtle turned to the kitchen. "Hey, Donny! Your _other_ kid is hoarding pencils again."

Donatello jogged into the Great Room. "I'll grab a few more from the Lab. Who needs a pencil?"

"I think Liv was trying to practice her writing," Mike told him.

The young red-masked turtle smiled brightly. "I'm making a story like you, _Ojisan_." (Uncle)

Michelangelo patted her shell. "Hey, that's great kid; but it'll be easier to write with a pencil. I wanna hear all of it when you're done, okay?" He clapped his hands to get the attention of the other children. "Nate, Tim, it's bath time, guys."

The smallest turtle pouted. "I watchin' Buppy Gubbies."

"No, you're taking a bath," Calley corrected, re-entering the room. "I was just starting the dryer, Mike. I can get these two in the tub."

"I have it under control, sis. Why don't you fix something for you and your husband to eat? You know Leo is helpless in there."

She smiled faintly. "We can't all cook as well as _you_, Mikey."

Mike reached over the back of the couch to retrieve Tim and scooped up the two-year-old under his arm. "C'mon, kid – it'll be fun. You can splash your cousin, but no more floods or the girls will take me off bath duty for good. Let's go, Nate! Park the bike and come march with me."

The five-year-old pedaled over to the wall and then hopped off to join him.

"You wanna lead the way today, Nate?"

"Yeah, let me, let me!"

"Count us off then, and we can get moving."

Nathaniel nodded with a grin. "Hut, two, three, four; hut, two, three, four!"

Michelangelo followed the young orange-masked turtle down the hall, into the oversized bathroom that had been designed specifically with the kids in mind. Mike put Tim down and untied the knot in his mask-tails, setting the blue bandana on the counter. Nate had his mask off before he even got to him.

"Daddy, can we have bubbles?" The earnestness in his son's blue-green eyes was impossible to resist.

"Not as many as last time, all right? Better let _me_ handle the bottle." Mike tested the temperature of the water again, and motioned for the boys to get into the large tub.

Tim smiled sweetly. "I hava cup?"

Mike folded his arms with a mock stern expression. "You can each have one, but the water stays _in_ the tub."

He reached under the cabinet for a couple of small cups, and came back to find Tim on his knees by the faucet, sticking his entire head under the running water.

"C'mon out of there, silly."

The youngest turtle giggled as he emerged, but Nathaniel wasn't amused like _he_ normally would have been.

Mike nudged Nate's shoulder. "You okay, buddy?"

The small turtle gave him a quizzical look. "Daddy, why is Calley sad?"

Michelangelo hesitated. It wasn't unusual for Nate to pick up on behavioral shifts, but it also didn't seem necessary to explain about the attack at the Festival yet. "Don't worry about Calley, Nate. Uncle Leo and Greg are gonna make everything better."

Nate waved his arms through the building bubbles and nodded. "Okay, Daddy."

He patted his son's head, and backed away to let him play. _Apple probably doesn't far fall from _this _tree either._


	5. Interview

***I never thought I would have to say this, but I don't own Justin Bieber, or the song "U Smile". I'm shuddering just to think that's the actual spelling of the track.**

* * *

Greg stared through the one-way glass into the interview room, sizing up the man waiting on the other side. For his part, Jackson Russo looked pretty ordinary at first glance, and not like the type of monster who could help orchestrate mass murder.

The man's shoulder-length dark hair seemed unkempt, but that wasn't unusual for someone who'd been locked up for even a couple of days. Jackson's gaze was boldly fixed on the glass, though he couldn't have known that Greg was on the other side. The boredom in his posture was obvious.

Greg exchanged a look with his partner. "I don't know _what_ to make of him, Kat. He doesn't look like much."

"Appearances mean nothing," the Latin woman said sharply. "Get your game face on. Calley _said_ he wouldn't cave easily."

He sighed. "It isn't like we're weighed down with the appropriate evidence to _make_ him crack either. I told the guys we'd lean on him, but this idiot doesn't have a reason to open up to us."

"We don't need all the evidence, Heffernan. We just need for him to _think_ we already know something he's desperate to hide, and let him fill in the holes. I'll start things off, okay? Try and follow my lead."

Greg snorted. "That usually seems to work better, at least where male subjects are concerned."

"Are you implying something?"

"Just that you have a knack for getting their attention, Kat."

"_This_ from the Play-Boy who spent the first half of our career hooking up with every available woman on the Lower East Side?"

He groaned. "That's harsh. I was only trying to pay you a compliment."

The wink she returned with indicated Kat hadn't been trying to offend him either. "That sort of compliment doesn't go along with where we're at now. I'm an old married woman with two kids, and _you_ managed to get whipped by the one woman you never saw coming."

He smiled. To say that he didn't see Sayuri coming was an understatement. Despite their long-distance chats and joint investigation into the Akiudo, he didn't find himself falling for the Asian woman until she made the first, bold uncharacteristic move.

"We may be older, Kat, but we're also wiser and still cool enough to pull one over on this guy."

Katherine shook her head. "I don't know about 'cooler' in your case, but let's get in there and see how far we can push him."

The woman led the way into the interview room, adopting the no-nonsense air that flustered many suspects before Katherine even opened her mouth.

Jackson gazed at the approaching pair calmly, resting both arms on the table without a hint of discomfort. Greg searched his eyes for any sign of real emotion, and only came away from the muddy green-brown irises feeling cold.

"Two visitors at once," the man said evenly. "I must have impressed someone."

Katherine ignored the dig with a grim smile. "Mr. Russo, I'm Katherine Barrows, and this is my partner, Greg Heffernan. We have a couple of questions for you."

Jackson folded his hands on the table. "Questions for me? My domestic _dispute_ was pretty 'open and shut' for the other detectives."

Katherine pulled her chair in to the table. "We're not detectives, and we aren't here to discuss your dispute. I'm more interested in hearing about the Dagos, if I'm being honest."

A thin smile emerged from the man. "That escalated quickly. Are you sure you wouldn't rather settle in for a while before you try to go for the jugular?"

She shook her head. "We're not here to play games with you, Jackson. I think you're probably too smart for that. You'd be wise not to try and play us either. The information that led us here could land you a lot more jail-time than a petty domestic violence charge."

"That's a nice speech, lady, but I'd love to see what kind of evidence you 'non-detectives' have brought to my doorstep."

"One thing at a time," she said smoothly. "It must be a relief for you to know that the Dagos can accomplish a couple of things in your absence."

"I have no idea what you're referring to, Miss Katherine," he replied mockingly, as though speaking to a pre-school teacher.

"There was a shooting last night at an outdoor Festival in New Jersey—"

"And you expect me to know something about it?" Jackson snorted. "Glancing into the records of my past won't make you an expert judge of current events. Do you have one good reason for visiting me today?"

Kat nodded sternly. "I have a witness who already identified the gang involved, and following up on that lead brought us to _you_, Jackson. I understand if it's hard for you to have pride over belonging to a group who calls themselves by what some deem as a racial slur."

The tension in the man's jaw became pronounced for a second, but then melted into another smile. "There is always more than one way to look at things, Miss Katherine. A Dago isn't defined by what anyone else thinks of him. No attempt to apply derogatory conations to a historic term will faze him, because his pride is determined from his true identity. Where some choose to be offended by someone else's _ignorance_, a Dago embraces the roots of where the name actually came from. If there is one thing a Dago is not short on, it's pride."

Kat's demeanor remained steady. "You sound like you're intimately acquainted with the group. Would you care to discuss what they could hope to gain by shooting down innocent people?"

Jackson chuckled. "New Jersey is not their territory of choice, Miss Katherine. I'm afraid I can't help you with your little problem."

"It's about to become _your_ problem," she said bluntly. "Why do you think we're here, Jackson? We have enough pieces of the puzzle to bring our attention to _you_; someone who hasn't popped up in any criminal database for over ten years. If you want to avoid prison, it would be a better use of your time to advise me on their motivation instead of their undying pride in who they are."

"What _did_ lead you to me exactly?" he challenged. "You know I was locked up, so I couldn't have physically been there. Who is this so-called 'witness' you spoke of? I don't imagine I could talk with them instead of you."

"You're not getting anywhere near her!" Greg snapped from instinct.

Jackson turned to him and his glance lit up with glee. "I wonder…are you only here to protect a witness of a crime I clearly did not commit, or do you also hang on the coat-tails of Phantoms?"

Greg's brow creased before he could prevent it. "Now you're not making any sense," he quickly replied to cover his astonishment.

"No?" Jackson looked at Katherine. "What do you think? Are these Phantoms as real as the paranoid 'witness' who sent you straight to me?"

Katherine's gaze narrowed. "This isn't _your_ question and answer time, and you've gotten way off the topic. We're looking for information based off what happened at the Festival, not running down some rabbit-trail which is meaningless to our investigation."

"Phantoms aren't meaningless, Miss Katherine. If you tried to get to the bottom of those fictional characters, you might be able to answer your _own_ questions. In any case, I have nothing else to tell you."

* * *

Reina was sitting on her knees by the cracked bedroom door, _trying_ to hear what the grownups were talking about in the living room. The task was being made nearly impossible by the small snippet of a song that kept repeating in the background, and grating on her last nerve.

"_You smile, I smile_

_Cause whenever you smile, I smile_

_Hey, hey, hey…"_

The eight-year-old looked over her shoulder at her little brother. Jonathan was standing on his bed, pressing the singing plastic doll against his ear. She groaned when the chorus restarted for the 19th time. "Gimme the Justin Bieber, Jon."

"No! Mine!" The two-year-old insisted.

"Jonathan, it's not yours! Just give it!"

"No, no, no!"

The moment she tried to pry the toy from his hand, her brother cut loose with a howl.

"Boys aren't supposed to play with dolls!"

"_Mine!_"

Another ear-piercing scream convinced Reina not to fight him for it. She was so much bigger than the toddler that the blame for everything would probably fall on her.

"Okay, Jon, but that song is getting annoying. Can you stop pushing the button?"

The dark-haired boy held up the figure triumphantly and then tugged on the doll's tight fighting black shirt. "You take this off?"

"_No_," she said testily. "That's how his stuff gets lost. Can't you play with something else?"

"No, I had this!"

Reina turned to face the door, and tried to shut out the doll's incessant singing.

"_You smile, I smile…"_

She was hovering right next to the hall, but still couldn't make out anything that was being said. Swiftly she glanced at Jonathan again. The boy was now lying on his bed, and the toy was plastered to his ear. Without a word, the blond girl quietly left the room and shut the door. Reina was tip-toeing down the hall when the sound of a voice suddenly getting loud made her freeze. She pressed up against the drywall as if she could vanish from sight.

"…the bastard knows SOMETHING, whether he was directly involved or not! He was too smug!"

Reina swallowed and backed up a couple steps. She hated hearing her Uncle Greg sound so angry.

"No one's debating that, Heffernan." Her mother sounded oddly tired. "It was too obvious not to be a threat."

"But why bring up the Phantoms? What possessed him to connect us with the turtles? For a few seconds there, it was like he was inside OUR heads!"

"Greg, would you sit down so you might _calm _down?" Her father's voice was reassuring.

Reina inched forward, moving closer to the living room.

"We have all of these indistinct pieces, but none of them add up. A shooting in the park. A cryptic message to Calley from someone who's already locked up. And now the same piece of crap is dangling the turtles over our heads like bait?"

Reina cocked her head curiously. Nothing her uncle was saying made very much sense, but now that he was quieter, she could pick up something else in his voice: fear. If possible, the man being afraid of something was almost as bad as him being mad.

"That's got to be the strangest part of all of this," her father admitted. "How could he assume you'd have knowledge of the turtles at all? As much as no one wants her involved, we're going to need Calley's help. She's the one who knows Jackson. She has insight into the gang."

"She's also very upset right now, and knowing that the same man threatening her is showing interest in the 'Phantoms' could make things worse," Greg returned.

"We can't exactly keep this from everyone else either." Her mother's sharp tone of voice made Reina cringe. Whenever that sound was directed toward _her_, she knew it was time to be quiet and listen.

"We've got to meet with the others and tell them what happened," Katherine continued. "And we probably need to take protective measures to keep Calley safe."

"Calley may not be the only one in danger," Luke said quietly. "That creep had a reason for bringing up the guys."

"We need to know _how_ he connected them with Calley before we go anywhere else!" Greg's exclamation was punctuated with a loud _bang, _and Reina was so startled that she tripped over a dump truck in the middle of the hall.

The girl hardly had time to backpedal before she heard someone coming, and was faced with the tall frame of her father. "Hi, Daddy," she said meekly.

The man didn't look angry, but Reina knew that being asked to play with Jonathan was nothing more than a ploy to get rid of her. "What are you doing, honey?"

"Um…I was gonna go to the bathroom," she lied, and worry over being caught made her voice tremble.

"Is that _all _you were doing?"

She slowly shook her head. "No. I heard Uncle Greg, and he sounded mad. Mommy was upset too."

Luke nodded. "We all get upset sometimes, Reina, just like you and your brother. But it doesn't mean anything bad is going to happen – okay?"

"But…why is he _scared_, Daddy? Calley's going to be all right, isn't she?"

Her father smoothed blond hair from the side of her face. "All grownups get scared occasionally. But we stick together and help each other, so there's nothing to worry about." He bent down to her level and hugged her tightly. "So what's your brother doing?"

"He's playing with Justin Bieber."

"There's something so weird about that statement," the man muttered.

"What, Daddy?"

"Nothing, Reina. Do you want to go get your brother and the two of you can have a snack?"

"Can we have popcorn?"

Luke grinned. "I can manage that."

"I'll get Jon!" Reina hurried back to her brother's room and found the boy sprawled on his back lying on a rug, the doll clutched against his chest.

"Jon, do you want popcorn?"

The boy's head jerked up. "Yeah!" He flung Justin Bieber across the room and dashed toward the door.

Luke appeared to swoop up the toddler in his arms. "Reina, put your doll somewhere _safe_," he told her under his breath.

Reina giggled while she retrieved the toy and ran it back to her room. She opened the closet door and tossed the doll on the top shelf, then threw a blanket on top of it. _That ought to shut him up for a while._

She skipped out of her room, and quickened when she heard the sound of the microwave running. Reina waved at her mother and Greg as she passed behind the couch in the living room, and entered the kitchen in time to watch the magical popcorn bag inflate.

"C'mere, Jon!" She boosted her brother against the counter so he could see the bag puffing up too, and kissed the top of his head. There weren't many things popcorn couldn't cure.


	6. Connection

Raphael had never been a huge fan of brain-storming sessions. Something about every hypothetical scenario being discussed in pain-staking detail never left him in a good mood, but he also couldn't stand not knowing what their next move would be. The price he paid for said knowledge was forcing himself to sit through such a meeting without getting irritated enough to put his fist through a wall.

"Jackson's attitude toward you could mean a couple of different things," Leo said thoughtfully. The unfocused look in the oldest turtle's eyes meant that he was going to take his time coming to a conclusion. "He obviously knows something. The question we need to figure out is whether this 'Viper' is taunting us, or if it was meant as a challenge."

"What's the difference?" Brandon asked.

Dark eyes sharpened as Leonardo turned to the man. "If he's only taunting us, then the threat is probably based outward, against more innocent people. Kind of like, 'look what I can get away with.' If he's challenging us, then the threat is inward…and we'd be the ones in the most danger of it. We need to determine which it is before we make any sudden moves."

The red-masked turtle shrugged. "Either way, they still gotta go down, Leo. They shot up civilians, and there's no reason to think they won't do it again."

"But getting back to my _original_ question," Greg inserted. "How would Jackson be able to connect the dots between Calley and the Phantoms to begin with?"

Leo exchanged a glance with Calley, and the woman's stricken expression spoke volumes. The blue-masked turtle stared at the floor before speaking. "Well…when those Dagos cornered Calley outside the Hall a few years ago…we had some prolonged close contact. I'm fairly sure Viper recognized me. There aren't very many katana wielding vigilantes on the streets of New York, particularly with our physiology."

"This guy got a good look at you, Fearless? You failed to mention _that_," Raphael hissed.

"It was _years_ ago, a couple of weeks before the earthquake. Priorities shifted and our lives changed."

"But them dang Dagos never went away!" Raph pointed out. "What else happened?"

"There _was_ nothing else! I threatened to kill him, and told him to stay away from Calley or else."

Donatello took a deep breath. "You didn't by chance use her actual name, did you?"

"We both did," Calley admitted quietly. "Used each _other's_, I mean."

Raphael grunted angrily. "Perfect, their whole gang knows you two have ties? Don't you get the danger that puts _Calley_ in?"

"Yeah, I _get_ it, all right? I know I messed up!" The full-force of Leonardo's agitation came out as he glared back at Raphael. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen! And I never imagined a threat would come back to life after being dormant for this long. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight that night – I was just angry."

Silence lasted in the atmosphere for several seconds.

"No one ever said you couldn't make a mistake, Leo," Katherine said at last. "God knows we've all had our share. We didn't come down here to accuse anyone of wrong-doing. We're only trying to put the pieces together so we can figure out what to do next."

Greg snorted. "I lost my cool on Jackson today too, so you're not getting judgment from me, Leo. I'd like to take another crack at this guy."

Calley shook her head. "The likelihood of getting him to talk _now_ is even less than it was before."

"I don't care," Greg returned stubbornly. "I'm getting on the phone to see if we can have a follow-up interview."

The sandy-haired man stalked out of the lounge, and everything got quiet for a second time.

Raphael clutched the pommel of one of his sai, absent-mindedly drawing it from his side. "Fact is, even if Viper's not willing to spill his guts, it don't mean someone else won't. If we can't do things the 'legal' way, then we gotta try it _our_ way."

Mike brightened at the mention of action. "Our way does make things happen faster usually."

Rebecca's hand tugged on the youngest turtle's arm. "But what are you going to do? Go out hunting for Dagos until you find one who's a bigger basket-case than Viper?"

"No," Calley spoke up, her voice surprisingly bold. "It can't be 'any' Dago. It has to be someone high up who actually knows things. Someone who can tell us whether this threat is based on our family, or a larger outside source."

"That makes sense," Brandon allowed. "But where do we _find_ their people? They're not advertising themselves on the street corners I take it."

"We?" Leo and Raph repeated together.

The man gave the turtles a dirty look. "Yeah. Remember _Watchmen_? We're in this together. If this concerns our family, then the _family_ is going to respond."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "Fer Cripe's sake, we don't even know what we're doing yet!"

Calley cleared her throat to get attention. "There isn't a lot of interaction between the lower members of the gang and seniority. The older guys tend to blend in better, particularly when they're hanging out in public. I know a couple of bars they used to frequent. They normally form relationships with the owners, so there's a good chance they're using some of the same hot spots."

"Okay, but _you_ can't go in there," Karina said at once. "You're exposed enough as it is, Calley. It sounds like some undercover work is called for." The bronze-haired woman gave Jenna a meaningful look.

Donatello's eye-ridges rose. "You're not already talking about going _there_, are you?"

Jenna crossed her arms. "You let us go undercover when we were looking for information on the Akiudo. How is this any different?"

The purple-masked turtle sent Leonardo a harried glance. "Are you sensing control shifting, or is it just me?"

"We'll have to be involved in some aspect," Katherine agreed. "This isn't only your fight. The four of you can't fit in to that environment. We can go places that you can't."

Becky nodded. "It's true. We're your best option for doing something like this, and we all have past experience to rely on."

The orange-masked turtle scanned the women with a sweeping gaze. "So you girls have it all figured out then? What's there left to talk about?"

"Nothing is set in stone," Leo said authoritatively. "You can all talk as much as you want, but no one's doing anything until we know more."

Greg chose that moment to reenter the room with his phone clenched in his fist. "We lost the Ace that we _had_ contained."

"What are you talking about?" Kat demanded.

"Jackson's been cut loose. His 'girlfriend' dropped the charges, so they let him go a couple of hours ago. Feels like we're right back at square one."

* * *

Raphael made a point of running after his blue-masked brother when the group broke up. Leonardo was moving fast enough that he probably wasn't intending to stop, but Raph wasn't going to let him get away that easily. "Hey, where ya going, Bro?"

"Nowhere. I need to get my _own_ thoughts in order."

"Leo, can I talk to you?"

His brother glanced down the hall in the direction of the dojo. There was reluctance in his dark eyes, but Leo didn't discourage him from following him. The blue-masked turtle trudged into the room, which was at least three times the size of the dojo they'd grown up in.

Having arrived, Leo dropped on a mat in the middle of the room and stared up Raphael, waiting.

"Don't look at me like I'm gonna bite y' head off, Fearless."

"I _know_ I screwed this up, Raph. I took that man for granted. I never should have given him the opportunity to see me, let alone allowed him to make the connection between Calley and me. It's not how Sensei trained us to respond."

"I ain't here to remind you it was the wrong thing, Leo. I might have been a little hard on you, calling you out in the middle of the group."

Leo shook his head. "No – you were right. I put Calley in danger. I'm supposed to protect her, and I made a bad situation worse."

"You made a _mistake_. You're not the first guy to get ticked over someone messing with your girl, Leo. It was only this little confrontation from years ago. How were you supposed to know the guy would come back looking for her?"

Leonardo drove his fist into the mat. "Why _now_? What does he want? What was the point of engaging her at all? Is this just a game? Is it something more serious?"

Raphael didn't know how to answer him. "That's what we're trying to figure out, I guess. Don't beat yourself up over this, Leo. You're not the first 'Phantom' to reveal yourself to a bad guy, and you won't be the last."

"_No_, Raph." His voice was sharp. "The risks are greater than they've ever been. We have a lot more to lose than we did in the past. We've got to drive the correct mentality into the kids, and we have to live by it ourselves. Ninjas are supposed to be _invisible_."

Raphael settled down on the mat beside him. "Leo, I get what you're feeling, okay? Having a kid and a family, it made me feel more protective than ever. But we can't forget balance. We can't live in fear of everything that could go wrong."

His brother didn't speak for a long moment. When he _did_ open his mouth, his gaze was trained downward. "I have the feeling Sensei would back me up on this, Raph. We've all progressed, grown, changed…We've focused on building a better life for our family, but certain components necessary to our training have become sloppy."

"Leo, you can't punish yourself for something that happened years ago."

The blue-masked turtle took a deep breath. "This isn't guilt talking, Raph. I'm trying to make sure we don't become complacent. After all we've been through in the past, and the enemies we've faced, the normal street riff-raff are sort of beneath us, aren't they? I took Viper so far for granted that I didn't think twice about threatening him to leave Calley alone.

"But the fact is, any brainless, talentless thug can pull an automatic weapon like one of those gunmen at the park, and blow us away. They don't have to be stronger than us, better than us…All they need is for us to let our guards down enough, and we'll fall."

Raphael hardly contained a shudder of rage at the thought. "That's not gonna happen, Leo."

Leo sighed. "It could, Raph. In my mind I keep going back to Sensei, and I find myself wondering if we really had enough time with him. He invested so many things in us; lessons that I'll never be able to forget. But I can't help asking myself if I'll ever attain the level of ninjutsu that Master Splinter did."

"I don't think we're supposed to try and be as good as Sensei was, Bro. If he was here now, he'd probably tell you to strive for _your_ best, and not to be his clone." At Leo's faint smile, Raphael shrugged. "He might not say it like that, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah." Leo sounded distracted. "Raph, I still miss him."

The red-masked turtle rested his chin in his hand. "We all do, Leo. Ain't nothing weird about that."

"I have these daydreams where I picture how he'd react to little Tim, and then Olivia with all the progress she's made."

Raphael's heart swelled briefly at the thought of his seven-year-old. The girl was soaking in her training like a sponge, embracing it with more gusto than _he_ remembered having at her age. Her level of agility was so exciting that he'd had a hard time not pushing her too fast.

"I know it's dumb to picture how it could be if Sensei was here."

"It's not dumb, Leo," Raph said quickly. "No one ever said that grief has to make sense, or that it goes away after a few years. Some people leave a hole that nothing can fill, and Sensei was one of them. We might not be able to remember everything he ever said, but between the four of us, Bro, a big part of Master Splinter is still there.

"He keeps telling me to be patient with Liv, and not push her too far yet. He also still tells me not to lose my cool and listen more, but you know how often _that_ happens."

Leonardo smirked. "You _have_ learned a few things along the way, Bro."

Raphael chuckled. "But we gotta keep challenging ourselves, huh? Much as we're focusing on teaching the kids, we gotta keep up our own schoolwork. I see what you're saying about not getting lazy because things aren't as hard as they used to be. But even if we have to torture each _other_, we're not gonna fall just because we took things for granted."

Leo rolled his eyes. "Don't mention torture to Mikey, or we'll all be under assault for sure."

"No worries, Fearless. We need to save all of our combined energy for dealing with them stupid Dagos. By the time we're done with 'em, they'll wish they never heard of the Phantoms."


	7. Scheme

***I must say that the last chapter was partially derailed from my original plan when I wrote it because of the death of a family friend. While Raph was sympathetic, he wasn't satisfied. This chapter was the product of _two_ characters demanding to have their own way.**

* * *

Raphael took his time stretching out, intentionally stalling longer than necessary in the dojo. He'd been listening to the normal early evening ruckus through the partially open door, but now that the sounds had faded, he had a good feeling that his tactic was successful.

Silently the red-masked turtle got to his feet and trotted to the door. He'd no sooner rested a hand on the doorframe than he sensed someone leaning against the wall from the other side. The door was pushed inward, and he grinned at the sight of Karina resting one hand on her hip.

"Caught you, didn't I? What are you hiding back here for, Raph?"

He offered her a cocky look. "C'mere and I'll show you." He backed up a couple of paces to get the bronze-haired woman to follow him.

She gave him a tolerant smile as she sashayed after him. "Does this mean_ I_ factor into your little plan somehow?"

The turtle engulfed her waist with both hands. "It'd be nice if you did. Everybody else gone?"

"They're probably sitting down to eat upstairs as we speak. You're lucky I didn't leave without you."

"I knew you wouldn't, Chica."

The woman pulled just far enough away to drive him crazy. "But I could have."

"Nah – you're looking for some alone time too. I can see it in your eyes."

She blinked innocently. "Is _that _what you think?"

He snapped his fingers around her wrist without applying true pressure, drawing her back to him. "I don't think – I know."

"Sounds like I might be too predictable."

Raphael made a scoffing sound. "I don't know what you're gonna do next _half _the time. I was only hoping you were craving me as much I want _you_."

Her eyes became so serious that it startled him. "That hasn't changed, Tortuga. We may be the adults, but we don't always have to act like it."

The warmth of her skin caressed him as she surrendered to his embrace. Raphael traced his fingers lightly up her neck, guiding her chin to the perfect angle. When they kissed her lips tasted sweet, speaking of the tangerine-flavored gloss she enjoyed teasing him with sometimes.

Surprise made him pull up short. "You _did_ know what I was after."

Karina smiled smugly as she weaved her fingers through his mask-tails. "A woman has needs of her own."

"You feel like talking about these 'needs'?"

She shook her head coyly. "Don't you prefer action to discussion?"

Raphael's chuckle was cut short when the woman wrapped her arms around his neck. Her green eyes held his calmly, but the smile behind them was impossible to miss.

"What _were_ your plans for this evening, Tortuga?"

"I'm pretty used to winging it these days, Kari. I'll take any second I can get where someone isn't banging down our door."

Karina looked over his shoulder. "Well…there's no one banging down the door right now."

"I thought you were gonna be about the action, Chica. You're taking things awful slow."

"All in good time, my dea—"

He unceremoniously lifted her around the waist and walked her to the door without her feet touching the ground. "All in good time," he repeated. "We'll _waste_ half our time if you keep teasing."

Karina laughed. "The family is well contained on the seventh floor, Raph."

"I'm not taking any chances," he retorted, setting her down in the hallway. "Are you gonna come willingly, or make me sweat this out longer than you got to?"

She tossed bronze hair out of her face with a flick of her wrist. "I'll be nice, for tonight." The woman took a couple of steps backwards, touching the wall with one hand to be sure of where she was going. Her gaze never left the turtle, and he swore his temperature rose about ten degrees in the time it took for Karina to make it to the stairs.

Karina's pace picked up when she reached the staircase, much to Raphael's relief. He'd been prepared to throw her over his shell if it was required, but it was the woman who led the way back to their room upstairs. He caught himself watching the curves of her hips more than where he was going. She could have been leading him off a cliff, and he wouldn't have known the difference.

The scent of sandalwood hit Raphael when he crossed through their doorway, and he knew without a doubt that she'd planned on going after him. The inspiration driven by _her_ preparation made the turtle spin her around on the spot and capture his wife in a kiss that was passionate enough to startle her.

Karina melted against his plastron as she kissed him back eagerly. Raphael felt blindly behind him, trying to determine how far away from their bed they were without actually letting the woman go. His flailing hand found nothing, and his head felt slightly dizzy by the time he finally exhaled.

Karina's hands rested heavily on his shoulders, like she was relying on him for balance too. "You're about to make me pass out, Tortuga," she murmured.

He swept an arm behind her back as they took the last steps to their bed together. Karina flopped down on her side, one hand already fingering the buttons on her shirt.

"It's been a while since I felt _that_," she admitted, still breathless.

The turtle lowered down beside the woman and tugged on her collar longingly. "We just gotta make more time, Kari. I swear nothing else has changed, except that we live in a bigger zoo than ever."

Karina finished unbuttoning her shirt and rolled over his direction. He allowed the woman to push him down on his shell, and nodded appreciatively at her bold red undergarment.

She smirked once more. "Put it on this morning for good luck."

He nearly snorted with laughter. "What _luck_ do ya think you need?"

Karina settled on top of his plastron with a chuckle. "Landing you is the easy part. Getting everything else to fall into place – not so much. This is the third time this week I've tried to work it out."

"Say what? Kari, you gotta speak up! I've always got time for you."

She shrugged. "It's more fun when we're both gunning for the same thing."

"I don't know, Chica. Being seduced by you is cool too."

He felt a momentary tingle as her hand grazed his cheek. When she kissed him again the sweetness of her lip gloss was gone, but heat rapidly built in its place. The turtle was lost in a partial daze by the time their lips parted again, and his expression must have amused Karina.

The woman's shoulders shook as she tried to muffle a giggle.

"You laughin' at me?" he drawled lazily, not embarrassed though it seemed he should have been.

"You're all red, Tortuga."

"That's 'cause I like it when we're on the same page too, Chica."

"Before I'm finished with you, you're going to _love_ it," she emphasized.

He grinned with anticipation. "Less talk. More action."

* * *

Raphael was subdued as he boarded the elevator with Karina, but it wasn't a bad feeling. She sidled up beside him while the elevator began to rise into the main building, and he rubbed the soft material of her fresh blouse under his palm. The woman didn't say anything, but the look she gave him was enough to make him reminisce about how close they'd just been.

The lower levels of the building were set aside for mostly business purposes, including Karina's and Calley's studio, Becky's office for the non-profit organization, and space for Jenna to record. The higher levels had been customized into condos for their extended family and friends. While it wasn't unusual for everyone to gather underground, the party sometimes found its way upstairs to a special wing on the 7th floor designed as a secondary living area large enough to accommodate everyone at once.

_Plus it's got the best view in the house_, he thought ironically.

When the elevator rose above the fourth floor, the glassed in side came into view, and the entire city-scape was lit up before their eyes. It was still an impressive sight, no matter how many times the red-masked turtle had seen it.

The chime of the elevator indicated that they'd reached their destination, and there was a welcoming party waiting when the doors opened.

"Hi, Mommy! Hi, Daddy!" Olivia waved excitedly. "We're dancing!"

Raphael smiled and knuckled the girl's shoulder affectionately. "Sounds like fun, Liv. Maybe we'll join you after we eat something."

"You _have_ to see what she's been doing," Reina urged him. "Nate's got some good moves too, don't ya, Nate?"

The small orange-masked turtle mirrored a Cheshire-esque smile that was all too familiar, grasping onto Reina's sleeve happily. "I can do my flips!"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah, we both are, Daddy! You gotta see them. Let's go, guys!"

"Uh…Liv…maybe you…" Raphael started, but the kids were already running off.

Karina laughed. "They won't break anything important. The girls have drilled in the habit of _moving_ things before any tricks come out."

The red-masked turtle shot her a smile. "Always thinking ahead, huh?"

"We've lived with ninjas long enough to know that young hyperactive ones need extra precautions."

Mike cleared his throat from the doorway across the way. "You guys get lost or something?"

"Or something," Karina said casually.

His brother grinned. "Enough said. There's still food if you wanna eat. Think _I'm_ gonna go catch up with the kiddos."

Raphael shook his head at Michelangelo's retreating form. "Sometimes I still think _he's_ one of 'em."

"Why do you think he's their favorite Uncle?" Karina laughed and pulled on his hand. "C'mon. I'm starving."

They entered the spacious room together, which hosted a wall of glass with the envied view of the city. The pair headed in the direction of the kitchenette, and were greeted by the starkly contrasting figures of an auburn-haired Victoria and wildly high-lighted Jazz.

"About time you guys showed up." Jazz smirked. "You're lucky we saved anything."

Victoria shook her head. "We'd never let someone go without. I've kept some of the pulled pork warm in the crockpot. Can I make you two a sandwich with all the trimmings?"

"_Gracias_, _Madre_." Karina sat down on one of the stools by the island that separated the small kitchen from the living area. Victoria's official position of "Den Mother" had been firmly cemented after the entire group was living in closer quarters.

"Lexi, not on the floor!" Jazz temporarily disappeared from sight as she bent down to retrieve the 18-month-old girl. She gave Raphael an exasperated smile. "Wherever she's not supposed to play, that's where she wants to be."

Karina stretched out a hand to smooth the baby's curly dark hair. "I think she's attached to her Mama. Enjoy it while it lasts, Jazz. Before you know it, she'll be running off and getting into trouble where you _can't_ see her."

Jazz made a face. "Good point." She took a seat on the other end of the island, balancing Alexis against her side. "You girls must be getting psyched for going undercover."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "We're having a good night, and you had to go and open your big mouth. Typical."

"It's one of the things I do best, Raph. What's the problem anyway? It's not like Karina's gonna step foot in some bar and forget she's already got the turtle of her dreams."

"That ain't the point," he grumbled. "It could be dangerous."

"No, what you and your _loco_ brothers do almost every night is dangerous. All _they're_ gonna do is play look-out in some seedy dive."

Raphael grunted his irritation. "Whatever. Not like we have any say in the matter."

"Raph." Karina's tone was reproachful. "We all want to get to the bottom of this threat. The consensus agreed that staking out a couple of hot-spots would be the best way to find the people you're looking for."

"Just…looking right? You're not gonna try and make nice with them thugs or anything, right?"

Karina shook her head. "We're only there to be your eyes, and maybe nothing will even happen on my turn with Jen. It's no reason to ruin a good evening, in any case." Her hand alighted on the back of his neck, producing the same giddy sensation in his stomach from earlier.

His shoulders relaxed, though he didn't quite smile. "You're not gonna say anything to make me like it, Kari, but I can deal. I hope I don't have to come in there and show those gangbangers how a _real _man treats a woman."

She grinned. "You'd have them beat for sure."

"I _am_ still sitting here," Jazz announced.

Raphael smirked. "Ah, shut it, punk; you and Brandon have done a lot worse in front of _us_. Speaking of which, how come you decided not to team up with your man for one these precious stake-outs?"

Jazz snorted. "Do I need to explain this to you, Turtle? Their goal is to blend in. I'm challenged where it comes to all things socially acceptable."

Raphael laughed. "Guess that puts us in the same category."


	8. Motivation

Donatello inwardly sighed with exasperation, but forced an encouraging look for the fourteen-year-old boy who'd made a surprise visit to his lab. "You're in luck, Shunshi; it looks like you only bruised the heck out of your ankle. It'll be sore for a couple of days, and you're not going to want to try kicking through any more _boards _for a while either," he finished sternly.

"I didn't mean to make trouble, Donny-san." The boy's expression was fearful, as though he expected a stronger reprimand.

_I probably ought to give it to him too. I'd rather save it for Sayuri or Greg to handle. It's bad enough when I have to scold my own kids, but since Shun's already here…_

The purple-masked turtle adjusted the icepack on his patient's ankle and sat down by the table on which the boy was reclining. "I know this was an accident, but you could have broken something, Shunshi, like your whole foot. Then you wouldn't have been able to train at all."

"No, Donny-san," he said meekly.

Donatello gazed at the teenager for a few seconds without speaking. It was difficult to watch the boy for any length of time without feeling pain twinge in his stomach. More than anything else in the world, Shunshi wanted to follow in their footsteps. Though the boy loved Sayuri and Greg as much as he was capable, it was the turtles that he idolized.

Don couldn't help wondering if the teen's abusive childhood had anything to do with the walls he'd partially erected toward his _new_ family. Getting Shunshi to complete schoolwork was a battle in itself, but when it came to studying ninjutsu, he was all too eager push the physical limits of what he could accomplish.

_Shun's got passion and tenacity, two qualities that serve him well for learning, but he lacks patience or good judgment. This isn't the first time he's hurt himself trying to pull some stunt, and I bet it won't be the last if we don't put a stop to it._

"You are disappointed in me," Shunshi acknowledged quietly.

"No, Shunshi, I'm not…however, you have to accept the level you're at. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a ninja, but the way you're trying to speed up the process…Buddy, that's not how it's done. Ninjutsu is more than head knowledge and the repetition of katas; it's embracing a lifestyle of honor."

"I just…I would like to know what I am working toward, Donny-san, and how long it will take to get there. I don't mind the hard work—"

"Your work ethic isn't the issue. My brothers and I can't give you a specific time-line, Shun. Your mind needs to be focused where you _are_. Do you understand why I'm telling you this?"

"Because…I am only looking for the end goal?"

Don nodded. "When we agreed to teach you ninjutsu, you were warned that it isn't a quick process."

Shunshi looked at the wall steadily. "I am trying to work harder in every area that is pointed out, but it does not seem to make a difference. I am so far behind you and your brothers. By my age, you were already a warrior taking on the streets."

"But we were _raised_ learning ninjutsu, Shunshi, and we didn't have the options that you do." Donatello paused to take a deep breath. "I don't want you to learn to be a ninja because you emulate me and my brothers. We're not perfect, and we never will be. We've made plenty of mistakes through the years, and we'll make more before we're done. Whenever you set someone up on a high pedestal, you're setting _yourself_ up for disappointment.

"When you go back upstairs, I want you to meditate on _why_ you want to learn ninjutsu. Following in our steps isn't a good enough reason. You won't be able to go the entire distance without some deeper motivation."

Shunshi drew one of his legs up against his chest. "Have I been fooling myself all along then? Do you mean to stop teaching me?"

"That's not what I'm saying, Shun. I'm telling you that being a real ninja requires a disciplined spirit in addition to the mind and body. If you don't work out the right motivation early on, then there will be plenty of opportunities for you to become…tainted. I don't want to see that happen to you."

Shunshi seemed to hold his breath. "Do you still think I can learn all of this, Donny-san?"

The turtle nodded without hesitation. "I know you're capable, and you have a good heart. That's why it's important to me that you do things for the right reasons, without trying to simply copy _our_ lifestyle."

"_Hai,_ Donny-san. I will think on all of these things."

Donny relaxed slightly. "Would you like to try putting some weight on that ankle? If it hurts, I could wrap it for you too."

Shunshi eased off the table and tested both feet on the floor. "No, Donny-san. It is not that bad."

"You need to ice it a couple of times today to keep the swelling down, and definitely limit the physical activity. Save the jump-kicks for another day."

Shunshi smiled as he adjusted the bill of his hat farther down on his forehead. "I will behave, Donny-san."

Donatello walked him to the door, and found a concerned Hisui and her boyfriend standing on the other side.

"_Aneki_, you shouldn't have come," (older sister) Shunshi hissed. "I told you that I was all right. You're supposed to be studying."

"I needed to be sure." Hisui scanned the boy from head-to-toe in a manner more worthy of a mother than a sister.

_Some of their old instincts are never going to die._

"He _is _okay, Hisui," Don assured her. "Just bruised. But since you're here anyway, I've got something to show you."

Excitement lit in her green eyes. "Have you made progress with the model software?"

The turtle chuckled. "I had to do _something_ last night while I was waiting for the security feed to finish compiling."

Hisui glanced back, hesitating when she saw Shunshi heading for the elevator. "Where are you going?"

"To my room. I have some…things to do," the teen answered.

"Stay off your ankle!" she called back.

"Hisui, he seems to be okay," Kouhei volunteered.

"That's right, and you're going to want to see this," Don reiterated. He leaned back inside the lab, turning on a couple more lights to illuminate the rest of the space.

His lab in their former Den had been sufficient for their needs, but it didn't rival the custom-built haven he'd devoted months to. His new lab was not only larger, but separated into sections based on the kind of work it was dedicated to; from technical data input to the creation of chemical components and a truly advanced medical treatment area.

While Donatello had been preoccupied with the overall design of the work-space, it was Luke, Marcus, and Caleb who'd repeatedly requested a professional set-up for medical emergencies and long-term care. _With what they've had to deal with over the years, I don't blame them_.

Donny led Hisui and Kouhei to the wall of computer banks, and paused beside his newest machine; a processor capable of building 3D models with which he'd only begun to experiment.

"Okay, so based on what we discussed, I chose three different subjects from the Canus lupus records, and implemented the zoo's medical history for each of them." With a click of his mouse, the first of the mapped images was projected on the table across from the machine.

Hisui caught her breath as she circled the image, examining the 3D model from all angles. "The details are so clear. It is much better than anything I've seen in class."

The 21-year-old woman was engaged in a highly competitive veterinary program, and Donny knew the edge that the new models could offer her.

"I don't know what to say, except _gozaimasu_, Donatello-san. It is more than I ever hoped for." (thank you)

Don smiled. "This is only the beginning, Hisui, and I'll teach you how to use it all."

"You believe I could build such models?"

The turtle nodded and glanced at Kouhei. "You need to remind your girl how smart she is."

Kouhei's white teeth flashed in a ready grin. "I try all the time, Donatello-san. She is very quick to…how do you call it? Shoot me down?"

Donatello laughed. "Persistence is the key."

Hisui ducked her head shyly, but then her eyes clouded over. "I am sorry about Shunshi, Donatello-san. He is so eager yet that he does not always think before he acts."

"Don't worry about your brother," he answered firmly. "I know it's hard to squash the protective influence you've had for him…but Shun's not the first young pupil to be impetuous."

"I don't want to see him hurt himself or someone else."

"We're working with him, Hisui. This is part of the process."

Kouhei touched her shoulder tentatively. "You need to take a break occasionally, Hisui. Shunshi needs some room to make his own mistakes."

Don hated the pained look in the woman's eyes.

"I don't like to see him suffer more than he has too, Kouhei," she said wistfully. "He has already been through more than anyone should."

"And he'll go through _more_ before he can become the man he's going to be," Don told her. "You're a very good sister, Hisui…but Kouhei's right. Shunshi has to learn to make the right decisions on his own, and sometimes that only happens through the experience of making mistakes."

* * *

Donatello's mood was vastly improved from where it had started early in the morning. That afternoon he'd finally managed to activate the contingency sensors and the corresponding video feeds into one continuous channel of activity that made him feel like the all-seeing eye. It was a momentous occasion to have the security net behaving exactly the way it'd been designed to operate, and it seemed to call for a celebration. _Or at the very least, a nap._

A warning knock interrupted his reverie over the technology, and he swiveled around as a figure appeared in the doorway. "April." Don rose at once to greet the woman. "Where've you been hiding out?"

She looked over her shoulder, exchanging a guilty glance with Marcus when he came in behind her.

"What? I'm not supposed to know?" Donny offered her an impish smile.

"No, it's fine," April said. "I spent most of the day helping Greg follow up some leads on the Dagos. There's nothing unusual going on with the gang, at least, not openly. Typical number of arrests for drugs, fighting, and muggings, but no crime involving automatic weapons."

The purple-masked turtle sighed. "It'd be pretty hard to hide anything like that. I knew Jazz was assisting him, but I'm glad Greg could put you to work too, April. I think I've finally managed to tame my _own_ beast of a software program. We're three steps closer to being more secure than Fort Knox."

Marcus grinned. "I'm surprised you didn't include a retinal scanner on every door."

Don shook his head. "I don't want the kids to feel like they live in a prison, but we've got to be able to protect ourselves from outside forces if necessary. Everyone might not like the safety checks in place, but they're there for a reason."

April exhaled quietly. "The whole idea of allowing direct access from the building into your world freaked me out at first, but I feel a little better about it now. I hope it never comes to needing the extra features, but it's good to know they're there."

Donatello shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but didn't mention the fear that'd been plaguing his mind. Ever since learning that the Dagos had connected Calley with Leonardo, his anxiety level was near an all-time high. _Who knows if they've tried to track Calley's location, or if that's even their goal? We need to get a handle on this situation _fast_._

"You look tired, Donny," Marcus discerned. "I should prescribe some rest for you before Doc drops the hammer."

Donatello snorted. "I certainly don't need _him _on my shell."

"Him?" Luke echoed from the door. "Who are you talking about Donny?"

The turtle wanted to roll his eyes. _How does Doc always do that? _

"It's nothing," Donatello replied casually. "The entire feed is cooperating. Congratulate me."

Luke stepped aside to let Caleb into the room too. "That's one big task to check off the list, hm?"

"Yeah…now it's only a matter of maintaining it, and knocking out the occasional kinks in the lines."

Caleb chuckled. "Sounds like one of those ongoing projects that never completely end."

"You've got that right, Caleb. It's nice to see _you _home. How was the conference?"

The red-haired man adjusted his glasses. "It went well enough. Lots of questions from the youngsters and disappointment too. Genetics has advanced in the last few years, but there are many procedures still out of reach within the United States. I can't even give the hopefuls a concrete glimpse of iPs cells yet, since they haven't been approved for use in human gene therapies."

Donatello smiled. "We already have living proof that your iPs cells function well in conjunction with the receptor blockers…it's just too bad you can't use any of Mike's records to help _your_ case."

Caleb shrugged. "At this rate, I'll be lucky if iPs are on the market to be used in gene therapy within my lifetime."

"Don't lose hope," Luke spoke up. "A few more trials with the right company—"

"Which we're not even sure we've found," Caleb inserted.

"They're going to see the direct results of their effectiveness," Luke finished. "You've done things with iPs cells that no one thought could be accomplished outside of another decade of research. You're bound to have your share of naysayers and detractors, Caleb. A portion of them are only going to be jealous that you accomplished what they couldn't; a less expensive and shorter process for reprogramming the adult stem cells to behave like the embryonic variety."

Caleb shook his head. "Time will tell…and I'll continue the refining process."

"Don't think of it as taking 'no' for an answer," Marcus added. "It's just going to take the genetic community a little longer to accept what you've pulled off."

Don smiled broadly. "And to think, we had the gift of being the first to benefit from them." He felt sharp eyes perusing him, and turned to face Luke.

"You'd benefit from taking a few steps back from the computers too, before I _really_ have to get on your shell."

The turtle groaned. _What's the point of even _trying_ to hide anything from him?_


	9. Sunrise

The coolness of the early morning was such a refreshing sensation that Michelangelo exhaled deeply. It would be daylight soon, but there was no mad rush for the sewer, no slinking off the shadows to avoid some commuter from catching them on the way to grab a cab.

Instead the orange-masked turtle was relaxing on the roof of their "headquarters" as he liked to call it, even if it was usually only in his head. Despite being out for most of the night, the promise of the sunrise offered another temporary burst of energy to Mike's muscles, and he didn't always like to go inside immediately.

"Are you coming today?" Raph called after him.

"In a little while. I wanna wait for the sun."

The red-masked turtle shook his head. "Bro, you're crazy. All I wanna look at is the back of my eyelids."

"Then you better not keep them waiting," Mike teased.

Leonardo was hesitating near the door too. "Do you want some company?"

"Nah, you don't have to babysit me, Leo. I know my way back down."

His oldest brother smiled tiredly. "All right then. I'll leave you to greet the day, but get some sleep, okay? I don't care if your kid _is_ already awake."

Mike smirked. "Go on, sleepy-heads. I'll catch up with you later."

When they'd gone, Michelangelo crossed his legs beneath him and closed his eyes briefly. He was tired too and would welcome a few hours sleep, but the novelty of staying "up" on the surface never wore out on him. Donatello would often sit with him too, but the purple-masked turtle was banned from that evening's patrol because of his own need for rest.

The three remaining turtles had spent the majority of the night combing the Dago's recognized territory. In that time they'd found a couple of things to break up, but no one actually worth talking to. Mike rolled his eyes toward the sky. _I just hope those toads come out of hiding long enough for us to figure out what they're doing _before _they do it._

The orange-masked turtle shuddered at the thought of automatic weapons in the hands of heartless killers who wouldn't hesitate to murder civilians. He didn't like to think about it at all, but it was part of the job. _We couldn't stop those guys at the Festival, but we're not gonna lay down and let it happen anywhere else._

His head twitched reflexively at the soft squeal of the rooftop door, and he turned to see the silhouette of his wife. Rebecca strolled toward him with a smile, and he got back to his feet to greet her.

"Good morning," she murmured. "Well…it's almost morning."

"Won't be long now, Beck. Have you come to chaperone me?"

Loose curls bounced as she shook her head. "I just thought I'd pay you a visit before you need to crash." Becky fished into the pocket of her sweatshirt to retrieve a plastic-wrapped object. "Brought you something too."

Mike tore through the wrapping and nearly salivated upon finding the homemade sausage and egg muffin. On second thought he gave the woman his full attention first, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her down on the roof with him. She cuddled against his plastron and they shared a lingering kiss which was even more invigorating than the breaking dawn.

Then Rebecca wriggled in the turtle's grip, forcing him to let go of her. "Go on and eat while it's hot, Mikey. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're so good to me."

"Someone has to be," she said glibly. "I'm glad it gets to be me."

He beamed at the woman before reaching for the untouched sandwich again.

Rebecca settled down at his side and fixed her gaze on the colors enveloping the rising sun. "I've always preferred a sunrise over a sunset. My mom used to say that there was a holy significance to the sun coming up. Whatever happened yesterday is gone, and you can't get it back. The beginning of a new day signifies the hope you have to move forward."

"I wish I could have met your mom," Mike said quietly.

She glanced away from the horizon to focus on him. "I do too, Mike, but I know she would have loved you."

"Ya think?"

"I don't doubt it for a second. You're so positive and full of life…and those were two of the things I loved so much about _her_."

"I don't suppose she was a goofball too?"

Becky giggled. "Not…not quite on your level, but she loved to laugh, and knew how to make people instantly feel comfortable." She hooked an arm through his free one. "That was something I adored about _you_ from that start. You made me feel so at ease and wanted. I was never a bother or an irritation."

"Do you think other people saw you that way, Beck?"

"No, probably not. The problem didn't exist with other people. I was awkward in my own skin, and never fit in well with others. But like my mom, you have a gift for drawing people in and getting them to relax."

He grinned. "Lulling you into a false sense of security, right before I throw you off a cliff." Mike never got tired of teasing her about their first meeting. It'd been a dramatic one, to say the least.

She hit his shoulder. "You can use your powers for good _or_ evil." Rebecca paused for a long moment. "Did you guys find anything worthwhile last night?"

Michelangelo wished the subject didn't have to change. He munched another bite of his sandwich to stall so he coulld come up with a satisfying answer. "It was kind of a waste of time. I mean, we helped some people all right…but we didn't find anyone who could give us information."

Mike swallowed, intentionally avoiding his wife's eyes. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure _talking_ is all Leo's got on his mind."

"What do you mean, Mikey?"

The orange-masked turtle wasn't sure if he should say anything, but it was too late to back out. "He feels…_off_, Becky. I don't know how to explain it, but I get the sense that he's ready to destroy someone. He was rougher than he needed to be with some of the punks last night."

Rebecca didn't say anything for a few seconds. "It could be stress or anxiety, Mike. Leo tends to take a lot on himself anyway, but this time, he feels more responsibility than usual. I wouldn't want to be the person who tries to come between him and Calley. Are you going to talk to him about it? It sounds like you need to."

Mike nodded. "Yeah, I guess I will. We've all had moments when we've taken out frustrations on some common criminal. But going into this thing with the Dagos, I want to make sure he's got his normal cool head."

Rebecca rested an arm on his shoulder. "You guys are good at keeping each other in check. If your gut says something's amiss, Mike, then don't ignore it."

He munched another bite of his sandwich so he wouldn't have to reply and focused on the blue heavens. "It's gonna be a nice morning. We could have a full on picnic up here."

"Maybe another morning when you haven't been up all night. Honestly, Mike, you'd better get some sleep soon. You know how hard it is to keep Nate away from you."

He laughed. "To keep him away from me, or me away from _him_?"

Becky shook her head. "He's _your _boy, through and through."

"I'll catch up, Becky. You know I always bounce back."

"Finish eating, and you can _bounce_ your way to bed."

Mike gave her an evil smile. "That could get on a few people's nerves."

"Since when has that stopped you?"

Michelangelo started to chuckle, but was distracted by a flash from his watch. A punch of a button informed him that the garage door had been activated. The synchronization of their watches along with the security sensor alerts was one of many things Donatello had fought to make a reality.

The orange-masked turtle rose and trotted over to the edge of the roof by the alley. He smiled when he saw a Cross-over emblazoned with the NYPD logo. "Heh, we weren't the only night owls. Looks like Tim is just getting in too."

"He covered a supervisor shift last night, and now _he'll _go to sleep like any normal person would." Rebecca raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

"Okay, I'm going," he surrendered, and reached a hand toward her.

Becky laced her fingers around his and sighed contentedly. "It _is_ a beautiful morning though. We need to get out of the city again soon. We could _all_ use the free time."

"It's nice to get away…but it's nice to be here too, especially when I'm with you."

"When I hand-deliver breakfast, you mean?"

"The sandwich was only a bonus. Thanks for coming up to sit with me."

She pressed closer to the turtle's side as they walked together, allowing a muscular arm to envelope her. "I'm never too busy to sit alone with one of my favorite turtles."

Mike stopped short. "My only competition had better be our kid."

The curly-haired woman simply laughed in return.

* * *

Michelangelo was surprised his older brothers were still up when they arrived underground, but even more to find Timothy Long talking to them. "Isn't it kind of hard to be nocturnal _and_ awake all day?"

The serious look Leonardo gave him wiped the smile right off his face.

"There was another shooting involving the same type of weapons last night, Mike."

"_What?_ Where? How did…" Mike trailed off in frustration, and looked at his brother to continue.

Tim cleared his throat instead. "It was outside my station, only about two hours ago. Most of the damage was limited to physical property, windows and the like. There were a few people hit though, and a couple of them were wounded critically."

"Is this supposed to be connected with New Jersey?" Mike demanded.

"It's hard to say for certain, but the mere presence of automatic weapons should be enough to request a comparison of evidence and shell casings from both crime scenes. It'll happen if _I _have anything to say about it." Tim growled under his breath, grasping his hat with white knuckles.

_First they show up where Calley's dancing, and now right outside her dad's station? Can that be a coincidence, or are they trying to send us a message?_ The orange-masked turtle felt his heart skip a beat with the question. The sound of small footsteps prevented Mike from speaking what was on his mind.

"Pappy!" Jayden hurled himself at the dark-haired man, and Tim had to side-step the three-year-old to avoid a painful collision.

Timothy picked up a grinning Jayden and patted his shell. "You're gonna knock me over like a bowling pin one of these days, Jay."

"Pappy, Pappy!" Charlotte hopped up and down at his feet. "Where were you? I missed you all day."

Tim set down Jayden and kissed the top of Charlotte's head. "I was working, baby. It was a _long _night."

"That's right, and Pappy's tired," Jenna announced. "Jay-Jay, Charlotte, table please. Pappy and your uncles need to get some sleep." The raven-haired woman eyed each of the turtles in turn.

When she'd moved on to the kitchen with the toddlers, the blue-masked turtle sighed.

"Searching for Dagos on the streets didn't yield any helpful leads. As much as I hate it, letting the others stake things out seems like the best solution we have for the moment."

"You guys act like we've never been involved before," Becky objected. "Why are you so hesitant this time?"

"Because we don't know what their game is, and they don't _care_ who they kill!" Leo retorted bitterly. "Literally anything could happen."

"_Anything_ could happen every time you guys step foot outside our door; it doesn't mean you stop doing it." Becky cast a glance at Mike, and then returned her gaze to the oldest turtle. "I know you have an overdeveloped need to protect everyone around you, but it'd be nice if you let us return the favor once in a while."

"We already agreed to lettin' you girls in on the stake-out," Raphael grumbled. "What do you have left to complain about?"

"There are a lot of things I could complain about; we all could, but we choose not to! We don't get on your cases for repeatedly taking your own lives in your hands, going looking for trouble night after night, or devoting yourselves to a line of work that no one's supposed to know about. But when you honestly need help and you're too protective to ask for it, yeah, I feel like complaining." Her speech complete, Becky turned and headed for the stairs.

The red-masked turtle rightfully looked surprised. Rebecca was more well known for quietly intervening than putting one of the turtles in their place.

"Like it or not, we have to move forward," Tim said. "I'd go with one of the pairs if I could, but I won't blend in with this age group either. Too old and tired for that."

Leo nodded sympathetically. "Get some sleep, and we'll strategize later. You too, Raph, Mikey. Go now before the rest of the kids are up."

As the orange-masked turtle started up the steps, his body felt heavier than usual. _It's not that we think the girls can't do anything. We don't want them to end up in the cross-hairs of this gang. Their lives have been endangered so many times because of us. But there's nothing we can do about it now except put ourselves in the right position to respond just in case something _does_ go south. I really hope it doesn't come to that._


	10. Look Out

**_*_I don't own Soundgarden, or the blast from the past which is "Black Hole Sun".**

* * *

_Of course, it wasn't as easy as just sending in an undercover pair once, or even a couple of times. For seven nights straight we shifted between two locations, bringing a different duo of look-outs each time. Our friends were pretty amused by it, though we didn't see the humor._

_Karina and Jen insisted on pairing up, for reasons I'm not sure I _want _to know. Hisui and Kouhei made sense together, and Brandon and Becky felt natural after the way they worked side-by-side on a couple of projects in Okinawa._

_They all thought we were being overprotective, and the truth is we _were_._ _I know my brothers recognized it as well as I did. It's not that we enjoy expecting the worst. It's because we've seen our people suffer before, for no other reason than being connected with _us_. What's so wrong with wanting to protect our friends and family anyway? Even if it _is_ an impossible dream._

* * *

Jenna held out her hand expectedly to the purple-masked turtle. "Donny, I know the drill. You're not going to give me the entire camera lecture _again_ are you?"

Donatello half-scowled. "No, you're getting a friendly reminder to keep your movements on the slower side. The feed is no good to us if it's constantly blurry."

"What else?" she asked, pushing for a reaction. "Were you going to remind me not to talk to strangers?"

"No," he said crossly. "But don't you _dare_ talk to anyone that you perceive to be a gangbanger."

"Because merely talking to a violent person could induce a painful and instantaneous death," Karina offered.

"Kari, don't make _me_ go through stuff with you again," Raphael warned.

"Lighten up, you guys," the Latin woman proclaimed. "My hermana and I got this."

Don finally handed over the black-framed glasses, and Jenna slipped on the fake lenses. She held back her hair so the turtle could put her earpiece in, and then smoothed it down to hide the bug from view.

"I'm going to give you some random instructions like before, to make sure that you're reading me okay. Don't call me to ask about them; just do what I say."

Jen nodded. "All right. Can we go now?"

"As soon as I set up Karina with _her _earpiece, Jen." Donny already sounded annoyed.

Jenna's teasing smile faltered when she glanced at Calley. The blond woman was only accompanying the boys on these trips to help identify potential targets over the video feed. The reminder of why they were there washed over the raven-haired woman in an instant, and she decided to stop giving her husband a hard time.

"We'll do whatever you say," she assured him.

Donny gave her his equivalent of a thumb's up. "See you in a bit."

Jenna jumped out of the back of the Battleshell into the alley, and Karina exited behind her.

The bronze-haired woman winked at her. "Are you ready to be ogled by a few guys who've had too much to drink?"

"We can still hear you!" the red-masked turtle yelled through the open door.

Karina shut the back of the Battleshell with a resounding _bang_. "It's so easy to get him worked up."

"And you don't seem to enjoy it either." Jenna chuckled.

"Never. Let's not waste time, Chica. We need to get a good seat in there."

They were currently located about two blocks away from Kricket's, the chosen "hot spot" for that evening. Jenna wasn't particularly bothered by the seedy-looking neighborhood, but she abhorred the wretched heels in which she was being forced to spend the next few hours. _They're instruments of torture. Why do women do this to themselves? I'd like to find the one who started it and wring her neck. You can bet I'd do it too._

Jenna caught Karina gazing at her silently. "What?"

"If you're trying to keep people away from us, that expression ought to do it, Jen."

She laughed. "Why do you _like_ getting dressed up this way, Karina?"

The Latin woman tossed her head with a snort. "You don't think it's a _little _fun?"

Jen crossed her arms. "The only time I have fun in a get-up like this is when it turns _Donny's _head. You've got no idea how long it took him to get over his inhibitions toward me."

Karina stretched a hand around her shoulders. "Occasionally it helps to hit a guy over the head, Jen; remind them why they fell for you to begin with. Tonight is only about blending in. You're still in blue jeans – what else do you _want_?"

"Different shoes would be great."

"It's only a couple of hours, Chica. They won't kill you."

Jenna took a deep breath and relaxeder arms when the tavern came into view. "It's almost show-time then."

The pair picked up their pace to reach the door faster, but Jenna intentionally slowed down when they got inside the bar. _I wish we could turn up these lights and make it easier to see people. But then we'd also be able to tell how disgusting this dive is. Everything is a trade-off._

Though it wasn't their first time going undercover for the turtles, it _was_ their first trip that particular bar, so it made sense to take a lap around the room before settling in somewhere.

"_I've got a good picture going, Jen."_

Jenna flinched, and had to remind herself that she couldn't respond to the bug in her ear.

"_The camera is transmitting perfectly, and the angle is clear. Don't sit down right away, girls. Get to know the land."_

Jenna and Karina exchanged a glance.

"Isn't it cute how he thinks he has to tell us everything?" Karina stage-whispered.

Jen muffled a chuckle with her hand. "That's one word for it."

The women worked their way through the room casually, as though they were nothing more than two friends out for some fun and refreshment.

"_Sweep your gaze slower, Jen,"_ Don reiterated in her ear. _"The picture is getting fuzzy."_

"Sorry." Jenna huffed without thinking.

"You're sorry?" A tall man with greasy hair lowered his pool stick with confusion.

"Uh…yes, for distracting you from the game," she filled in hastily.

The stranger smiled crookedly. "You're a welcome distraction, honey."

"_Just keep moving,"_ Donny ordered.

"We're gonna go so you big men can finish your game," Karina said smoothly, steering Jenna toward the bar.

When they were a few steps away from the pool table, Karina nudged her side again. "Grab one of these stools, and then take a look over your shoulder, Chica."

The raven-haired woman carefully turned her head, and noticed why her partner had chosen that specific spot. The elevation of the bar was higher than the rest of the room, and allowed her a much wider sweep of the space at once.

"_That should do it, girls. You need to order something to they'll let you park at the bar, but don't overdo it."_

Jenna bit her lip, wishing she had a mouthpiece of her own. She had to be satisfied with shaking her head at Karina. "I'm about to pitch my bug across the room."

"Then he'd just think he needed to come in here after you, hermana. I'll order something. These stools feel like they turn a bit. If you want to try and face me from the side, it'll look more like we're talking and less like we're scoping people out."

Jen nodded. "Whatever you say. Don't you dare give me anything like that drink from the other night."

"I told you I didn't buy it, Jen! That ridiculous biker sent it over. Look _before_ you sip, okay? We're not looking to get buzzed here."

"Tell that to my husband."

Karina shook her head. "I wish he could hear you so badly."

"So do I, Kari. Let the stake-out commence, all right? I want to get home before my babies wake up and have to wonder where I am."

* * *

Two hours passed without anything of note happening, and the speaker in Jenna's ear was feeling even more like a buzzing insect she needed to get rid of. She glanced at the front of the bar and wiped away condensation from the neck of a beer bottle. The woman had barely touched the drink, only pulling a sip whenever she felt the bartender looking her direction.

Jenna was tired, but she was also growing uncomfortable with the lack of _contact_ from the bartender. _When their profits and tips depend on making nice with the customer, it doesn't make sense to ignore us. I don't want the guy talking my ear off to get me to drink more, but it's still weird._

The strains of a new song starting on the raggedy-old jukebox drew her to look over her shoulder again.

"_In my eyes, indisposed_

_In disguise as no one knows_

_Hides the face, lies the snake_

_And the sun in my disgrace…."_

Jenna's eyes lingered on the well-built man hovering over the machine, until he backed up to a nearby table.

Karina followed her gaze and exclaimed something under her breath in Spanish. "Since when do they let kids hang out in bars?"

"Kids?"

"Check out Sonny there on Muscles left. Guy can't be more than 18."

She squinted at the younger of the pair, and then looked questioningly at the older one who'd started the juke box.

"_Black Hole Sun, won't you come_

_And wash away the rain?_

_Black Hole Sun, won't you come,_

_Won't you come?"_

Jen began to turn in her stool, when a sharp voice blasted her eardrums.

"_Don't move, Jen!"_

The command was so sudden and startling that she nearly tipped over her stool when she jerked.

"_What are you doing?! I need you to stay calm, but get the camera back on that guy over there!_"

Jenna clenched her teeth furiously and bit back a swear while she corrected her stool. She began to look over her shoulder once more, but now the bartender was standing directly in front of them.

"Are you all right, Miss?"

"I'm fine – feeling a little clumsy tonight is all," she reassured him, flashing a winning smile.

"Don't sound like you're from around these parts," he remarked.

Now_ he wants to get chatty with me? Good night, Don's gonna blow out my eardrums._

"I'm from Australia originally, Sydney," Jen said dismissively.

"What brought you hereabouts?"

"_Jen, you have to shake this guy and get back on the other one! We might have a real target here!"_

Jenna reigned in her annoyance with difficulty.

"My parents did first, and then I went and fell for one your citizens," Jenna explained. She yanked her cell phone out of her pocket hurriedly. "And after all these years, he still doesn't trust me. Ten unread messages. Getting so a girl can't go anywhere with her friends."

Bartender nodded understandingly, and let Jenna get back to the fake text messages.

On a whim the raven-haired woman got to her feet, and pretended to be texting while she walked. If she was to head for the jukebox herself, it would force her to go directly past the table of the gentleman in question. She acted like she was absorbed by her phone, and looked up at the last moment when Muscles was only a couple of feet away.

Jenna laughed awkwardly. "I should watch where I'm going, huh?"

Dark eyes observed her for a fleeting second before the man returned his attention to his underage companion. Jenna kept going until she got to the jukebox, then chanced another backward glance.

"_I know you didn't go talk to him! I said _don't_ engage, Jenna!"_

Jenna's fingers angrily flew across the keypad as she typed a rapid-fire text. _**"Did you get what you needed or not? I'm about to scream if you don't get out of my ear."**_

After a moment, Donatello responded. _"Don't draw attention to yourself."_

Jenna sighed noisily. _**"I'm not stupid enough to actually do it, Donny! Did you get the picture or not?"**_

After a few seconds of silence, he returned. _"He looks promising – Calley thinks she remembers him. Go back to the bar and wait things out for a few more minutes, then you and Karina can head out."_

Jenna started slowly toward the table again, and this time she spied the bright ink of a tattoo peeking out underneath Muscle's cut-off sleeve. She stared at his back for a long moment, and her entire body stiffened when she discerned the head of a snake.

With a deep swallow she began moving again, ignoring their table entirely as she focused on her phone screen. _**"Did you get that image from his tattoo by any chance?"**_

"_Give me a couple minutes to process it, Jen."_

Jenna contained a tremor while she eased back into her stool.

"Didn't find the song you wanted?" Karina asked pointedly.

"Maybe…the jury hasn't decided," she returned. Jenna fiddled with her bottle nervously while she waited for Donatello to come back.

"_Okay, Calley definitely recognizes the design. We want to act on this one, ladies. Stay where you are for a couple more minutes, then get up and leave."_

Jenna felt relieved on one hand, but nerves rose back in her stomach quickly. They weren't going to be a part of the next phase, but that didn't make her feel better about it. She made eye contact with Karina. "Our 'fun' night is almost over."

"I hope the boys have enough _fun_ of their own."

Jenna pushed away her drink, fleetingly wishing now that she had something stronger. _They won't screw this up. There's too much potentially at stake. _She unhappily shifted in her high heels, but resisted the urge to pitch them across the room too. _Definitely not as much fun as I'd hoped for._


	11. Interrogate

***Game on.**

* * *

"Are you _sure_ you have the right car?" The blue-masked turtle wasn't in the mood to take chances.

"Fearless, it ain't like there're 200 people in that dive. Mike and I tracked every vehicle that came into the lot, and those two definitely got out of it. The Chucklehead even made a joke about them being the 'odd couple' at the time," Raphael told him.

"If you're positive, then I'm sending Don over."

"I'm sure, Leo. Are the girls outta the way yet?"

"Jenna and Karina are long gone with Calley. It's down to us now."

"I hope this guy will sing for us, Bro."

"He _will_ talk, because we won't give him any other choice. You and Mike can go ahead and fall back a little, but keep a look-out for Don. I don't think his trick is supposed to take long, but he doesn't need to be caught in the act."

"We got it under control; Mike and I will keep watch for his shell. Are you gonna head this direction too?"

"Not yet, but I'll see you soon." Leonardo took a deep breath after hanging up, and hit Donatello's speed dial. "Hey. Where are you?"

"Waiting on the roof of the Dry Cleaner's. Do you have a car for me?"

"It's a white Durango, license plate number EKD7550. Are you ready to move?"

"Yup. I'll head to the lot, and I'll give you a call back when my work is finished. You should hear from me within a few minutes."

"Get it done."

Leonardo tapped the steering wheel impatiently. He had the utmost confidence in his brothers to keep track of each other and complete the small set of tasks, but he was also eager to get his hands on a member of the gang that probably had worthwhile information. He had a feeling some of the pressure came from the emotional parting with Calley an hour before. The woman was more upset than he'd expected her to be.

_No one can blame her for that though, particularly when we don't know what's going on. Hopefully that's about to change._

* * *

A tap on the front passenger-side door drew Leonardo's attention, and he unlocked it for his red-masked brother. "Everything go okay, Raph?"

"Donny woulda told you if it didn't. Try and relax, Leo; the scum hasn't even left the bar yet."

Leo heard the sound of the back door slamming shut, and knew his younger brothers had to be safely in. "I should check with Don—"

Raphael caught him by the wrist. "He needs to get his computer going, Leo. Give him a chance to settle in, and he'll call _you_ back."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." Leonardo released his phone to the cup-holder where it was resting. "Sorry. I'm _really_ ready to get a move on."

His brother smirked at him and adopted a mock-serious tone of voice. "We all are, but patience is key, Bro."

"You're telling _me_ to be patient?"

"I know, right? The world must be spinning the wrong direction or something."

Leonardo chuckled while he leaned back in his seat, trying to look casual. Appearances went out the window when his cell phone rang, and he jerked like he'd been shocked by a live electrical wire. "Don? How do things look on your side?"

"I've established a strong connection with the tracking device I planted. All we can do now is wait for _them_ to do something."

"What about the blow-out? I don't want them crashing, Don. We need them in good condition."

"It's under control, Leo. We're not going to give them the opportunity to get on the express-way or anything. The smart tacks I snuck into their tires should disable them safely enough under a slower speed. Why don't you go ahead and get your earpiece on so I can feed you streets and directions when the time comes? Big guy _has_ to get Junior home sooner or later."

Leonardo picked up the headset from the dashboard. "I have it. I'll be waiting to hear from you."

"One more thing, before I forget. I ran the VIN number on the Durango, and the car came back hot. It's clearly stolen, even if they took the time to switch out the plates. It'll give us a good excuse to call the cops on 'em."

"And the police can come clean up," Leo murmured. "I like your thinking. Keep an eye on their SUV, Don."

"I'm on it."

* * *

The blue-masked turtle felt like a coiled-up spring that was ready to snap by the time he got the call he'd been waiting all night for.

"They're leaving the bar, Leo," Donny informed him. "Start the Battleshell and prepare for me to be your GPS."

"We're not tailing them, right?"

"We agreed that'd be too obvious. I think our best route is to get a short way ahead of them using a parallel street, and we can correct or backtrack if we need to."

Leo shot Raphael a smile as he started the van. "Here we go."

His brother grinned back, reaching for his seatbelt. "You drive, and I'll operate the missiles."

"No missiles on this trip, Raph."

Raphael snorted. "You're no fun sometimes."

Donatello's voice cut back in before Leonardo could retort. "All right, he's heading south. I want you to take a left on Byerly to connect you with Delaine, and we can keep heading south right along with him."

"Whatever you say, Don."

It wasn't difficult to trust his purple-masked brother to feed him directions, but Leo would have rather had the physical SUV within sight.

"This neighborhood doesn't look like a good place to disable, Don," he mentioned. "We're going to need to wait for them to get off the thoroughfare before we can even consider acting."

"He doesn't seem to be deviating from the southerly course, Leo. It's only a matter of time before we hit a more appropriate area. Don't worry – I see him. He's not getting away from us."

Leonardo spent another mile in silence, anticipation building despite the lack of real results.

"He's turning West on Chancey, Leo, you're going to have to make a right to…What, Mike?" Donatello's voice got quieter while he conferred with the orange-masked turtle. "…would _definitely_ work in our favor, if he sticks to it."

Leo slowed down instantly to prevent himself from missing any important turns. "What are you saying, Don?"

"Taking Chancey is going to put him in the range of P.S. 114. This time of night, it should be pretty abandoned, don't you think?"

"Okay, but how do I get over there?"

"You haven't passed Piedmont, have you?"

"Coming up in about 200 feet; do you want me to turn?"

"Take a right, and then we'll simply have to backtrack a bit to catch them." Don chuckled. "They won't be going anywhere quickly at that point."

"Will do, Don." Leonardo smiled grimly at their darkened surroundings. "I do love it when a plan comes together."

* * *

They left the Battleshell between two buildings, which would allow a quick escape from either direction should the necessity arise. Leonardo rapidly cut a path across the parking lot and over a small grassy area, heading for the spot where their targets were currently immobilized thanks to his purple-masked brother.

Leo's breath seized when he caught a visual of the white Durango around the other side of a fenced in basketball court. He motioned behind his back to the others for silence, and carefully circled the black top, sticking to the deepest shadows away from the glaring lights over the court.

He hesitated in the darkness while the engine of the SUV stopped idling and shut down. A small chuckled formed in the back of his throat as he gazed at the vehicle's shredded back tires. _Simple, but effective._

The Durango's dome light came on when the doors opened, and both driver and passenger hopped out to go around back. The larger of the pair bent down by the bumper with a curse that was loud enough to hear from the turtle's position.

"Brian, go find the flashlight! What the hell could have done this?"

When the smaller figure turned to go back up front, it spurred Leonardo to immediate action. "Don, Mikey, take the kid and contain him. Raph with me, and we've got to be fast!"

Leo didn't wait for an affirmation before moving, smoothly drawing a katana while he was in flight. The edge of his blade against the back of their target's neck was the guy's first clue to their arrival. The man jumped at the contact, and the blue-masked turtle had to rapidly pull back to avoid impaling the informant before they had a chance to ask him any questions.

"I wouldn't do that again if I were you," he warned him, tapping the keen edge against his neck once more.

"_What?_ Who the he—"

Leonardo applied more pressure with the katana for good measure. "Shut up. I'll tell you when it's time to talk. Get on your feet."

The man's shoulders stiffened with fury, and Leo noticed the cell phone in his free hand. Raphael moved before Leonardo could say anything about it, snatching the device away from the gangbanger.

"Keep his phone somewhere safe," Leo instructed him, and prodded the individual squatting by the bumper again. "Get _up_."

The stranger slowly obeyed this time, but his hand also quivered like he meant to attempt something stupid.

"Put your head against the car and spread your arms and legs for me," Leonardo ordered. When the man balked, the turtle leaned closer to his ear. "You do what I said, or my blade's going to slip. Accidents have been known to happen."

It took a couple more seconds, but his captive finally complied. The red-masked turtle patted him down for weapons and came up with a knife blade and a small piece that resembled a Glock.

"Check for a wallet. It could harbor information too," Leo suggested. "Then go ahead and bind his hands."

Raphael located a black billfold, and turned it over to the blue-masked turtle. He applied a couple of zip-ties to restrict their subject's ability to resist, and nodded at Leonardo to continue.

Leo turned their captive around so that he was facing them. "Now we're going to get in your car for a little while."

The man cursed at him. "You don't have a _clue_ who you're messing with."

"On the contrary," he replied darkly. "Move your feet."

When Raphael opened the side door, Michelangelo stuck his head outside.

"What do you want us to do with the other?"

"Tie him up if you haven't, and keep him in the front seat away from us," Leo answered. "We still might need him for something."

"Don't you _touch_ him!" his prisoner snarled.

Leonardo yanked him by the chin to bring his face nearer to his own. "That will depend on _you_, Shade."

The use of the man's nickname got his attention at once. "Wh…what do you punks _want_?"

"Answers," Leonardo said crisply, and pushed Shade onto the back seat. "Don, start searching the trunk. Don't leave anything unturned. "

"If you bastards hurt my brother—"

"Like I said, that will depend on your cooperation. I have questions, and I expect honest responses."

Shade stared at him sullenly, squinting his eyes in the dim interior lighting. "You're…_them_?"

Leonardo ignored his realization of their identities. "Let's start with New Jersey and the Summer Festival Blast."

The man shook his head. "I don't know what you want from me. I can't tell ya _anything_ about freakin' New Jersey!"

Leonardo dropped on the seat beside him. "One of the greatest gifts our father gave us is the ability to tell the difference between the truth and a lie, Shade. I'll give you a chance to reconsider your answer."

"I don't…" The man faltered, pressing against the side of the SUV when Leonardo inched into his personal space.

"Leo." Donatello's voice was an unwelcome interruption.

The blue-masked turtle looked over the seat with annoyance, but his dark eyes widened at the case his brother was holding up.

"The carpet had a strange hitch, and the case was in a hollow chamber underneath it," Donny explained. "It looks big enough to hold the type of weapon we're looking for, but all I've got are a few shell casings."

Leo glared at Shade dangerously and extended an arm around his shoulder. "Where's the gun?"

"It's not mine, I didn't—"

Without warning, Leonardo gauged a pressure point under his jaw. "You're lying. You know about New Jersey, and you've used one of these weapons. Now I want a straight answer from you!"

Shade was huffing too hard to achieve a complete sentence when Leonardo released him. "It's not…my…"

The blue-masked turtle shook his head and resumed where he'd left off, depressing the spot harder than before.

"_Okay!_" he shouted under duress.

Leonardo pulled back and crossed his arms, waiting for him to continue.

"I was there, but I don't have the gun! I swear I don't!"

"What was the purpose of killing those people?" Leo demanded.

Shade gazed back at him so dumbly that Leonardo couldn't resist the urge to strike the back of his head.

"The Festival! Why did you attack those people? Why did you threaten Calley?"

Shade's eyebrows rose. "_Calley?_ You think this was about some low-life user Viper dumped _years_ ago?"

The blue-masked turtle's hand wound around his collar. "Be careful, Shade."

The man exhaled shakily. "Are you serious? If we wanted that girl dead, we could have done it a dozen different times already!"

Leo's backhand slammed the man's face into the window. "Then _why_ threaten her?"

Shade sniffed, but it did nothing for the blood trailing from his nose. "You're ridiculous. Viper just wanted to mess with her; that's what he does! "

"The only problem with that is he was already in jail at the time!" Raphael inserted. "What _now_, punk?"

Shade swallowed, but then forced a small smile. "I do a mean impression of him. Couldn't resist going through with it."

"If you weren't out to do anything more than scare her, then what was the purpose of the attack?" the blue-masked turtle challenged.

"It was a test. A demonstration. Is that all you wanted to know?"

Leo made a scoffing sound. "We're just getting _started_. Where are the guns now?"

"I told you, we don't have them!"

"I can see that you don't have _yours_, but I want the location of the rest of them. I'm not accepting that you don't know."

"I can't. You don't understand, freak…I've said too much already. If you don't kill me, Viper _will_."

"Thought he was your buddy," Raph offered sarcastically.

"Squealers don't last in my line of work. You've gotta know that."

"Where you're going, you won't have to worry about Viper. Where are they stockpiling the weapons?" Leo persisted.

Shade closed his mouth and said nothing. The blue-masked turtle considered trying the pressure point again, but a glance over his shoulder convinced him to switch up his tactic. He focused on his youngest brother standing watch over the teenager and nodded.

"Mike, why don't you take the kid outside?" Leonardo turned back to Shade. "If you're not interested in talking to me, maybe he will."

"He's a dumb _kid!_ He doesn't know anything!" Shade bellowed.

The blue-masked turtle observed the frightened eyes of the youth watching, and made a snap decision. "He hangs out with you, so my gut says he knows _something_. Let's test the theory."

Leonardo braced his weight against Shade's legs to pin him to the seat and wrapped a hand around his neck. It wasn't the first time in his life that he'd had someone by the throat, but there was no gradual increase of pressure on this occasion. He didn't keep track of how long he'd been cutting off Shade's air supply. In a flash it changed from a threat to an ultimatum, and he wouldn't be the first one to give.

"_Stop_!" Brian shouted. "Please stop!"

He didn't look at the teenage or hesitate in his grip, even when the man's eyes rolled back in his head.

"Leo…?" Donatello's voice was quiet, but his concern cut through strongly.

Raphael's approach was slightly more direct. "Bro!" The red-masked turtle's hand landed on his shell, and Leo jerked away from it.

"They're buying the guns next week!" the teenager blurted out. "They wouldn't agree to take the lot without a test run!"

Leonardo released the man's neck and withdrew from his legs, allowing Shade to slump forward on the seat. He bent down briefly to check his pulse, and then crossed the short distance to the front of the car. "Where are the guns going to be?"

"I…I really don't know. It's all happening offsite. Shade doesn't tell me those things."

Leo detected the lie in his eyes from a mile away. "If you want to protect your brother, and it seems like you do, you'll tell me exactly what you _do_ know."

Brian's breathing hitched as he drew closer to him. "T-the exchange is supposed to happen in a graveyard. That's all I heard!"

"_What_ graveyard?" Raphael pressed.

"I don't know! I wasn't even supposed to hear _that_ much! It was something Viper said, a couple days before the Festival. He said everything from the meetings and the transaction would go down in the graveyard. I don't know anything else!"

Leonardo knew the boy wasn't telling them the entire truth, but the disturbed look in Michelangelo's eyes wouldn't allow him to push the teenager any further. He heard choking behind him, and glanced back to see Shade heaving feebly on the seat.

Leo sighed inwardly with resignation and reached for the wallet he'd been holding onto. "Don, go through this, and see if there are any receipts or notes that could give us more clues. I'm going to check the glove box."

"What are you gonna do with us?" Brian whimpered.

The blue-masked turtle clenched his fists in frustration. "The police get to deal with you two. _You_ need to get away from this gang and your brother before one of them gets you killed."

Leonardo climbed out the side door to go around front, ignoring the gaze boring into the back of his head from Raphael's direction. "Hurry up, guys. We've gotten as much as we're going to from this pair."


	12. Bait

With every passing minute, Shade was certain his blood pressure was rising. Tossed carelessly into the trunk of the Durango with both hands _and_ feet tied, he could do little more than roll a couple of inches in one direction or the other. The small amount of motion he could achieve was nowhere near enough to get loose.

He knew that Brian was up front in the same predicament, but neither of them had said more than a few words to each other. _Time is running out_. Shade was sweating in places he didn't know it was possible to perspire from, and his head was pounding harder now than when he'd initially woken up. As grateful as he'd been to see the freaks of Nature leave, he wasn't eager to be picked up by the police they'd promised would follow.

Shade ground his forehead into the carpet when he heard sirens. _We're so screwed. _The back-end appeared to be shrinking, hemming him in tighter as their approaching doom announced itself. The sound of brakes shrieking to a stop outside the Durango made him tremble. The sirens weren't as near as the new vehicle seemed to be, so it was either a first responder who hadn't bothered to blast them, or—

The back doors were flung open without any hesitation, and the figures that stepped into range of the interior lighting made Shade exhale the breath he'd been holding. Relief warred with anger as two pairs of arms dragged him off the floor and yanked him toward the waiting van.

"What _took_ you so long!?"

No one bothered to answer Shade, instead hurling him on a seat in the van with all the gentleness the Phantoms had used. He swore loudly, glaring up at the men who'd thrown him onto his back. "You better not be within 50 _yards _of me when I get loose, bastards!"

Within a few moments Brian was hustled onboard too, though the kid made no complaint of their savior's cold treatment. Doors slammed behind them, and the van accelerated so quickly that Shade went flying, striking the driver's and passenger's side seats before hitting his side on the floor. He had a few choice words for the driver, and his curses rained down like a torrential monsoon.

"Calm down, Shade." Viper's serene tone was infuriating. "I'll help you out as soon as we put some distance between us and those cops."

"Calm down? _Calm down?_ Do you have any clue what I just went through? One of those wretched freaks almost killed me! What took you so long to get here?"

"We were already close by, Shade, but we had to wait for those things to leave before we could make _our _move. I should think that was obvious. Now tell me, my friend, did they take the bait?"

Shade was breathing too hard from his tirade and had to take a moment to collect himself. "You get me out of these ties, and I'll tell you everything."

Viper chuckled as he twisted around in the front passenger seat, maneuvering through the limited space to reach him. "Hold still," he warned. "Antoine, try not to hit any more bumps."

Shade felt cold steel against his wrists and fought to remain steady while his buddy cut through the zip-ties. He exhaled again as the freedom to move was restored.

"Think you can pull yourself up at all? I can't reach your feet from here."

Shade grabbed the arm of the seat and yanked himself off the floor, making it part of the way before Viper stretched out to help him. He propped his legs up so that the man could get to them easier, and was loose within a few more seconds.

Shade rubbed his throbbing head, and threw a glance to the seat behind him. "You all right, kid?"

His accomplice shook his head. "I thought we were _both_ gonna die!"

"Hold tight a little longer, okay? When we stop, I'll come back and turn you loose."

"But back to my original question," Viper smoothly cut in. "How did the interview go?"

Shade shot him a dirty look as he massaged his throat, imagining the bruise he'd have from the creature strangling him. "It went _rough_."

"It's not like I didn't warn you, Shade. You were also _there_ the time the one stepped in on us and Jersey. You should have known what to expect."

"I figured it'd be different if we weren't threatening nobody."

"Did they get the information they needed?"

Shade cast his "brother" another look. "We didn't make it easy on 'em, Viper, but they got it eventually. 'Course, that 'Leo' made me pass out before Brian here would spill anything about us needing to buy the guns."

"You told me I couldn't fold right away!" the teen protested.

"You did good," Shade said gruffly. "Next time, you could speak up a little sooner. What am I _sayin_'? I'm never going into a close encounter with the Phantoms again!"

Viper laughed once more. "If everything goes according to plan, there won't _be_ any more Phantoms, Shade. That's the point of this entire exercise, in case you've forgotten. Were they told where the exchange is taking place?"

He shook his head. "Not straight out, no, but there should be enough clues from the junk they picked up and what the kid said to point them in the right direction. And if they're too stupid to figure it out, you're gonna have to use someone else as bait. I'm not doing it again, y'hear me?"

"_Relax_, Shade. I told you how resourceful they are. It took them less than fifteen hours to hunt me down in jail."

"Why are you so sure that the pair who came to see you has anything to do with the Phantoms, Viper?"

His friend gave him a condescending smile. "Do you think any worthwhile police officer would have followed through on a lead based only on what a traumatized girl heard through a loud speaker? If they weren't connected to Jersey and those freaks, they wouldn't have _been_ there."

Shade shrugged. "I guess so." His first smile broke as something occurred to him. "It was kinda sweet how those girls tried to play it cool tonight. I had my doubts about this whole thing panning out, but you were right. How'd you know they'd send someone in searching for a familiar face?"

"That was the _easy_ part, Shade. The Phantoms have Jersey in their ear, trying to tell them what to expect from us. They had to get information from somewhere, and the best place to start was our old stomping grounds."

"You make this _sound_ easy, but what if they hadn't sent in those sore thumbs to spy on us?"

"Then we would have laid a different path for them to follow. What difference does it make, Shade? You said they went for it."

He nodded eagerly. "You got plans for Jersey when this is all over?"

Viper snorted. "You think I still want that wretch? She's old news. The last time I looked her up was only out of curiosity. When she came out looking so good, I just wanted to have a little fun with her, and I _probably _would have let her go after I was done."

"But old Leo wasn't having that," Shade muttered. His tone must have been too snide for Viper's liking, because his friend slammed him up against the side of the car in an instant. "_Ow!_ Vip—"

"Shut up! You think it's funny, Shade? Was it funny when the freak had _you_ by the throat?"

"No!" Shade's voice cracked. "I wasn't laughing at ya! I was only remembering the way—"

"The way they've always interfered, and pretended to own every street corner? Their self-righteous position which allows them to play god over everyone else, judging who gets punished and who's left behind?" Viper paused briefly, loosening his grip on Shade's chest. "The police and the government are institutions. We might not like them, but at least they're set up by the people of this country, and they're accountable to someone.

"These Phantoms have been around for years, doing as they please, to _whomever _they please. No one asked them to do it or appointed them as some divine watchdog. They don't belong to this world. The freaks can't even fit in with the people they claim they're protecting, so they slink around in the shadows and act like they're secret heroes. If their intentions are really as pure as the driven snow, why keep hiding out for all this time? It's because they like having the power over people. They inspire terror everywhere they go, and yet _we're_ the bad guys."

Viper huffed furiously. "We show more respect for rival gangs and their territory than those rotten freaks have ever given any of us! This entire project is long overdue."

Shade nodded vigorously. "I couldn't agree more after tonight. To think, they had the nerve to use me against my 'little brother.'"

Viper smiled grimly. "They must have felt pretty desperate. What were the girls in the bar like?"

Shade chuckled. "Not bad looking, but it was clear they didn't belong in the neighborhood. Vinny said they were too proper, and didn't sit well with him from the start. That, and who buys one beer, sits in a stool for two hours, and doesn't finish the thing?"

"Someone who wasn't there to drink. It was a good call, Shade." Viper reclined against the seat more casually. "You hungry for all your efforts?"

Shade shook his head. His entire body felt like it was tied up in knots no one could release. "Do you think that Phantom woulda killed me if Brian hadn't 'cracked'?"

"Who knows _anything _about the freaks, other than they've been a pain in the neck for far too long?"

Shade looked at the floor. "This_ is_ gonna work, isn't it? What the one said before, about taking the whole gang apart—"

"Is one of _many_ reasons that I'm making certain it works," Viper filled in. "Stop being uptight. The hard part is over for you. The rest will be much more enjoyable."

"But will I get to _see_ any of it?"

"I can't guarantee that, unless you're willing to be a closer audience than any sane person would choose. That doesn't mean there won't be satisfaction. With as long as it took to set up, I mean to have my moment in the sun."

"When you first told me what you were thinking, I figured _you_ were insane," Shade admitted. "The sheer scale of this made me think you were dreaming."

"My dad taught me about the gift of persistence, Shade. When you keep working toward a specific goal, all the pieces you need to make it a reality, whether it be funding, technical genius, or simply individuals willing to do what you ask without question, will fall into place."

"What happens when the freaks are dead, Viper?"

"We don't have to plan that part, my friend. That's the beauty of the project; we can go our own way, and continue doing as we please."

"Humph. We ought to be collecting a fee from every clique in New York City for the favor we're doing 'em."

"What we're _doing_ is called leveling the playing field, Shade, and reinstating the natural order. The police follow a procedure. They don't run around the city like out of control commandos, hell-bent on finding someone to pound into the ground. The truth is that if someone had the patience to entrap the freaks, this could have been over years ago."

"There were a couple of times when we thought they _were _gone, remember?" Shade crossed his arms. "After the big earthquake, no one heard from them for months."

"Dream come true," Viper murmured. "It makes sense looking back though. They were probably too scared to show their faces with all the extra National Guardsmen around. Those suckers were almost as annoying as the freaks."

Shade swallowed before he forced himself to voice his concern again. "You _sure_ they can be killed? I wouldn't want to be within their reach if this thing doesn't work out."

"Of _course_ they can be killed," Viper snapped. "Why do you think they're so protective? Because they understand how fragile life is. A lot of weirdos out there still think the Phantoms are some kind of spirit plaguing evil doers, but we know better, don't we? They've got flesh and bone, and it'll burn as easily as a human's."

Shade tried to disguise the tremor that washed over him. His memory of the blue-masked freak was fresh; recent enough that he didn't relish the idea of being eye-to-eye with him again. He looked up to find Viper staring at him.

"The freak really got to you, huh?"

Shade did his best to look insulted. "Did _you_ ever face down all four of them? By yourself? I should get a medal for what I went through tonight."

Viper grinned. "If you want some appreciation, just say so."

"That and for someone to come save my tail a little quicker next time!"

"There won't be a next time," he reminded him. "In less than a week, the so-called 'Phantoms of New York City' will only be haunting the deepest depths of Hell."


	13. Accountable

Michelangelo didn't say more than a few words in the first ten minutes of their drive home, but he was in good company. The others weren't talking either. The silence was an awkward sensation for the orange-masked turtle, and he was starting to wish that he'd sat up front with Donatello. Instead he was staring at the sidewall of the van, wondering if his two oldest brothers felt as uncomfortable with the situation as he did.

He made deliberate eye contact with Raphael, and held the red-masked turtle's gaze for several seconds. _C'mon, Raph. Say something! Don't make _me_ get the ball rolling. This is where you're the most gifted, at telling things like they are._

His brother glanced at Leonardo without actually moving his head, and Mike nodded. _Open your mouth. You can do it, Raphy. It's like your calling!_

Raphael huffed softly, and then twisted in his seat to face Leonardo squarely. "What _was_ that back there, Leo?"

The blue-masked turtle took a moment to answer. "I did what I had to in order to shed some light on the situation."

"Is _that_ what you call nearly killing someone with your bare hands, Bro?" Raphael's tone was surprisingly quiet.

Leo shook his head. "I wouldn't have killed him – not really. I just needed the boy to _think_ I would. That's why it's called bluffing, guys."

"Yeah, but the bluff is supposed to work on the bad guys; not on _us,_ Leo," Mike added. "That wasn't like anything I've ever seen you do."

Leonardo's gaze shifted quickly between both of them. "Look. People are _dying_, okay? For no reason other than the twisted whim of that stupid gang. If it's true that they don't own a cache of those weapons yet, then I'll do what it takes to prevent the collection from changing hands. I'm _not_ going to feel guilty for pressuring someone to open their mouth. There's no telling how many lives could be at stake."

"We see that too, Leo," Raph replied evenly. "But before we go any further, I gotta know something. This mission is about stopping the Dagos from hurting innocent people, isn't it? Not your beef with Viper over Calley."

The glare Leonardo turned on him could have frozen a pond solid.

"Someone has to ask this stuff, Leo!" the red-masked turtle exclaimed. "You know darn good and well you were walking a fine line back there. You were moody the other night out on Patrol too. I'm not trying to be your daddy; but I have to make sure we're on the same page."

Leonardo's hard look faltered as he took a deep breath. "I have everything under control."

"_That's_ the problem, Leo!" Mike blurted out. "When you had Shade by the throat, you knew exactly what you were doing. It wasn't a fit of rage. You had to make a decision to push it that far, and I'm not gonna lie, Bro: it bothers me."

"I wasn't doing anything other than playing a part, Mike, and as I already said, I won't feel guilty for it. Are we supposed to sit back and do nothing while they could be planning another assault – a _bigger_ one? This isn't about Calley." He paused to give Raphael an evil eye. "It's about being in the right place to act before they have the chance to end the world for any more people. I'm sorry if I gave you two the wrong impression, but considering the circumstances, can you cut me a break? We're all on the same team here."

"No one's attacking ya, Leo," Raphael assured him. "We had questions, and we're entitled to answers, aren't we? If the roles were reversed, you'd be doing the same thing."

It appeared Leonardo might object, but then he shut his mouth. "Yes. We all have to keep each other honest, I suppose."

"And that's all we're doing," the orange-masked turtle said quickly. "We're your bros. We're always gonna be on your side. We have a ton of faith in you, but we're all allowed to make mistakes."

"I already made mistakes," Leo muttered. "And I don't intend to repeat them." His expression darkened so rapidly that Mike had the urge to back against the van wall.

"Now, y'see, Leo? Sayin' stuff like that is making us think twice about you," Raphael pointed out.

"I'm not allowed to get angry, is that it? You can threaten to tear someone limb from limb, but I'm not supposed to stand up against a problem_ I_ created?"

Raphael's eyes flashed. "You said this _wasn't_ about Calley, Leo!"

"It's _not_ – I'm trying to avoid making a bad situation worse! My gut says there was more going on with that Festival than a simple demonstration. There's a greater ulterior motive at work here, and Calley's involved somehow whether we like it or not."

"Don't you think it's possible they only did it to get our attention?" Mike wondered.

"But why would they want attention at all?" Raphael growled. "It goes against the first rule of committing a crime – don't get caught. This whole thing stinks, Fearless, even more than it did before! How can we trust one word those guys told us?"

"We'll have to do more digging," Leo said reasonably, sounding more like his normal self. "The memory card from Shade's cell phone will hopefully give Don a good place to start, and some of the other things we pulled from the car could help construct the puzzle too."

The blue-masked turtle stretched out both arms plaintively. "I'm _okay_, guys. I'm upset about the senseless murders that have already been committed, and that I gave Viper a connection between Calley and myself to begin with. But this isn't about getting back at him for hurting her, as much as it is preventing someone _else_ from being hurt. We're going to continue to look before we leap, and study before we commit to the offensive."

Michelangelo felt himself relaxing a bit. This sounded more authentic for his leader-minded oldest brother. _And Leo's right – he didn't actually kill that guy…even if he made us question whether he might. Maybe I was _expecting_ him to go in angry, and I'm making more out of this than it is._

He held Leonardo's eye contact for a few beats, encouraged by the confident light that he'd come to count on where his brother was concerned.

"We're still behind you, Bro," Raphael said. "Long as you're not too sore about us pushing you."

Leo shrugged. "I can't say that I blame you, or that I'd discourage you from trying. I can be wrong too, and it needs to be pointed out from time to time."

Raphael smirked. "I'll always be glad to accommodate you, Leo."

* * *

Michelangelo wasn't surprised to see his purple-masked brother immediately turn for the Lab upon arriving home. "Gonna be a long night?"

Donny shook his head. "Probably not. I want to get our evidence organized, and maybe I'll dig into the memory card a bit."

"Don't stay up all night," Leo told him. "We're going to have a lot to do tomorrow."

"I won't, Leo."

"Famous last words…" Raphael uttered smartly, crossing his arms toward Donatello's departing form.

"You guys should think about getting to bed too," the oldest turtle suggested." Everyone will want an explanation of tonight's events first thing in the morning, If you could refrain from giving them a reason to overreact, I'd appreciate it."

"You mean you wanna leave out the parts that left the rest of us uncomfortable?" Raphael demanded.

"Don't you understand where I was coming from now?"

Mike exchanged another look with Raphael, but neither of them said anything.

"I'm not suggesting we leave anything out; I'm asking you not to throw fuel on the flames, okay?"

The red-masked turtle grunted loudly. "Whatever you say, Leo. I'm out for tonight." Raphael trotted upstairs without a backwards glance.

Leo sighed quietly. "We'll talk about this more in the morning, Mike."

"G'night, Leo," he returned.

Mike allowed his oldest brother to get up the steps and into the darkened hallway before he started climbing himself. The door to his and Becky's room came up immediately on the left, but he needed to check on Nathaniel before he went to bed.

Michelangelo slowly turned the doorknob of his son's room, and was startled to find the five-year-old already sitting up in bed. "Nate? What are you doing, bud?"

"I heard you on the stairs."

"Are you sure you heard me? We were pretty quiet, Nate."

The smaller turtle stared up at him innocently. "I woke up, and then I was waiting for you." Nate held up his arms and Mike leaned down to hug him tightly.

"Okay, I'm home now, so you don't have to wait up anymore."

Nathaniel resisted his effort to draw the blanket back over him. "Daddy, I'm not tired."

Mike grinned. "I bet you are. If you lay back down, I think you'll have an easy time falling asleep."

"But you never told me the story."

"I told you one last night, didn't I?"

"I wanna hear the rest. You said you'd finish it." Nate's hopeful smile made Mike snort.

"You already know the rest of it, 'cause you've heard the story before."

"Please, Daddy? I'll go back to sleep faster."

"You're trying to make a deal with me? Since when does _that_ work?"

"Just tell me about the fireflies again."

The orange-masked turtle laughed. "You could tell _me_ this story, Nate."

"But you do it better."

"And then you'll go to sleep?"

"Uh huh!"

Michelangelo looked over his shoulder as though someone would get him in trouble. "All right. Scoot over for a minute."

Nate's giggle nearly reached a shrill level before Mike motioned to him urgently.

"_Shh_. Quietly, kiddo."

His son wriggled to the other side of his single bed, and Mike curled up along with him.

"All right…well…your Mom and I had already been walking for a few days in the rainforest. We were still trying to catch up with your Uncles and get back home."

"Why did it take so long, Daddy?"

"Who's telling this story, Nate? It took a long time because we were far away from everyone else, and the rainforest is a lot different from the city. We had to follow a path, try to avoid being seen by anyone, and keep from overheating in the sun, and drowning in the rain."

Nate laughed. "Daddy, you can't drown in the rain."

Mike nodded solemnly. "You can if it rains hard enough, Nate, but that doesn't happen very often."

"But why does it rain so much in the Congo?"

"Save that question for your Mom or your Uncle Donny. Getting back to the story. We wanted to stay close to the river since it was the easiest thing to follow, but the terrain was rocky and slowing us down. We decided to leave the river behind and start cutting across the country instead.

"Now, we usually made a habit of stopping at nightfall and setting up camp—"

"You said we could go camping – remember?"

"Yes, I remember, Nate. Anyway, Becky wanted to go further, and I was only along for the ride. We went up this _tall _incline, and then she wanted me to close my eyes."

"Was she playing with you, Daddy?"

"She wanted to give me a nice surprise. When your Mom had me open my eyes again, we were standing on an overlook, and could see for miles and miles around. Down in the valley, I had my first glimpse of the fireflies. These weren't your garden variety lightning bugs that you like to chase at Lotus Salvus, Nate. These suckers were their giant cousins, and the way _they_ lit up looked more like real flames. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen. That was the first night that your Mom sang for me too."

The young turtle nodded knowingly. "I like it when she sings the firefly song."

Mike's brow creased. "How many people are you hearing this story from? Did Uncle Raph tell you too?" he teased.

Nathaniel giggled again. "No, Daddy! He wasn't there. It was just you and Mommy, and she had a crush on you."

Mike snickered. "Nate, do you know what a crush is?"

"Yeah – that means you're married."

The orange-masked turtle laughed louder. "Not quite, buddy. It might mean you _want_ to marry someone."

"Is that so you can kiss them?"

Mike turned his face against Nate's pillow to muffle his laughter. "How did we get here, Nate?"

"I _see_ you kiss, Mommy. Does that mean you have a crush on her?"

He was at a loss for how to explain without cracking up. "Yeah. Your Mom and I still crush on each other, Nate."

"Does it ever _hurt_?"

"No – it's not the kind of crushing that hurts; at least, it's not supposed to. Shouldn't you be getting sleepy?"

Nathaniel obediently lay down on his pillow. "Daddy, am I going to crush somebody?"

Michelangelo nuzzled his forehead and pulled his blanket up higher. "Maybe someday. But it can't be just _anybody_, okay?"

Confusion registered in Nate's blue-green eyes. "I don't think I want to."

"You've got a lot of time to grow, Nate. You might change your mind."

"Will you take me to the Congo too?"

"What?"

"When I get bigger. I want to see the rainforest. Mommy still loves it too. She said she wants to keep it…to keep…"

"Keep it alive," Mike told him. "Your Mom is teaching people how to treat the land and get the best crops to grow."

"But will I go there?"

"I don't know, kid. Maybe. Nothing is out of the question."

The small turtle sighed sleepily. "That's good. I want to see the fireflies."

Michelangelo patted his side. _I hope you get to see that and a whole lot more._

* * *

**_*_Portions of this conversation were inspired by a real talk I had with my five-year-old nephew about crushes. You gotta love kids. :)**


	14. Clues

When Leonardo stirred in the morning, annoying heaviness was clinging to his mind like low-hanging fog. All he wanted to do was sit up and brush the clouds away. _But something tells me it won't be that easy._ He started to draw his legs over the side of the bed, and stopped when he heard the rustle of sheets next to him.

Calley was sitting up on her side rubbing one eye. "I didn't hear you come in last night."

He gave her the most normal smile he could muster. "I'm a ninja – you're not supposed to."

Brown eyes scanned his face slowly, and then fixed on him without faltering. "What's wrong? And don't say nothing," she added, not giving him the chance to brush off her concern.

The blue-masked turtle folded his arms. "Last night went okay. We may have gotten some useful information out of them. At the very least, Don has a couple of leads to follow-up on. He was going to start analyzing something when we got home, but I asked him to hold off on most of it so we could tackle evidence together today."

"If everything went _okay_, you wouldn't be this troubled. I already see it, Leo, so there's no point in trying to deny it."

_Is there anything you _don't _see? _Leo pulled his legs back on their bed and sat up against the headboard. "I probably went too far in an effort to get one or both of our targets to talk. It bothered my brothers…at least, Mike and Raph teamed up on me. Don was either too distracted to say anything last night or he's just biding his time."

Calley swallowed, shrinking up under the sheets. "This is exactly what I was afraid of. Leo…"

"No. _No_, Calley, I'm not going to let them change me. We've never had an enemy who had the power to make us forget who we are, or deviate from our real purpose. I didn't lose control last night, and it won't be any different when we catch up with the other Dagos. It's me, _koishii_. I'm not going to let you or my brothers down."

After a couple of seconds her eyes softened. "Do you know what they're actually after?"

He shook his head. "No – but one of them said the attack at the Festival was only a demonstration…and the other told me they don't own the guns yet. They're supposedly buying them next week. The teenager mentioned something about a graveyard, but it just sounds fishy to me. That's not the kind of transaction any normal person would initiate in public."

Calley's forehead creased. "It sounds like a meeting they'd carry out away from their home…but a graveyard?"

"That's what he said; of course, he could have been yanking our chain entirely. We won't know until we start following up on the information we _do_ have."

"_Carefully_," she reiterated.

"Yes, Calley. We mean to take precautions, especially since we don't know what the goal is for after they acquire the weapons. Something tells me it's a morning headline I don't want to see." He leaned forward and stretched his arms behind him. "I could stand to loosen up. You want to join me?"

"Let me check on Tim first, and then I'll be down. You could go ahead and get the room warmed up for us." Calley gave him an impish smile.

He bent over to reach her, and the woman met him in mid-air. The softness of her lips immediately made him feel lighter. Leonardo was briefly tempted to stay in bed with her longer, but obligation to begin what was going to be a busy day tugged at the back of his mind.

The blue-masked turtle separated himself from the bed with an apologetic grimace.

Calley winked. "Don't look so sad. I'm going to catch up with you in a while."

* * *

Leo trotted downstairs with his face set toward the dojo, but he was sidetracked by the light coming from underneath the door to the lab. He double-checked his watch to verify that it wasn't quite 6:30, and then walked into the room to investigate.

The purple-masked turtle was poised in his typical spot behind a computer, with one hand wrapped around a still steaming coffee mug,

"Don? _Tell_ me you haven't been here all night."

His younger brother wheeled around, and the excitement in his eyes was astonishing. "No, Leo. I woke up about an hour ago, and I couldn't go back to sleep. Something from one of those text messages was eating at me, so—"

"You were reading texts?"

"Yeah, Leo, but _listen_. The kid said the transaction is supposed to take place in a graveyard, but I don't think that's what Viper intended; at least, not a _real _one."

Leonardo sighed. "Don, it's early. When is a graveyard not a real graveyard?"

Donatello unrolled a street map over the desk with a great flourish. "When it doesn't have any actual graves. Check this out, Bro. I was skimming all the communication between Shade and Viper from the week before last—"

"Leading up to the assault at the Festival?"

"Yeah, and Viper made references to the Upper East Side a couple of times. He was talking about acquiring supplies, making time to work out…and it didn't add up."

"It's well outside the Dago's established territory," Leo allowed. "You're assuming the references could have significance."

"I decided to double-check the area for graveyards, even the smaller church variety. But when I typed in my search parameters, it gave me another suggestion." Don motioned his hand over a shaded portion of the map that encompassed an entire neighborhood. "This _is _the Graveyard, Leo. It's a nickname for a six block radius on the Upper East Side, because of the neglect it fell to after the earthquake. There's been rebuilding and restoration over most of the neighborhoods, but not there."

"Then…it's possible the exchange isn't happening in a cemetery at all…"

"…But in one of the abandoned businesses or buildings in the vicinity. Many of them have been condemned. The city has plans for taking some of the structures down, but it hasn't happened yet."

Leonardo exhaled softly. "It would be a better strategy on their part than meeting somewhere in the open, where anyone could randomly show up. Is there evidence in the documents we confiscated that could point to a particular business?"

"I'm searching the stored coördinates in Shade's memory card. He enabled the use of a GPS program, so it has records of where he's been spending his time."

"Well, don't let me distract you. Have you been through much of the other evidence?"

"No, not yet. I've focused more on the technical aspect. Where that fails, I'll get more hands on."

"Mind if I take a look?"

"Be my guest, Bro."

The blue-masked turtle was drawn to the gun case where the automatic weapon _should_ have been. The shell casings and empty hole staring back at him left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. _I suppose it wouldn't do us any real good, even if we had the gun. _

A minute imperfection in the foam lining drew his attention, and he tugged at the material to free it from the case. He wasn't expecting much, and he didn't find anything hiding out under the lining. When Leo cast the foam aside however, a small object fluttered free from the material and drifted to the floor.

The tiny card was lying plain side up, but Leonardo was curious enough to retrieve it. When he flipped it over, he found a faded company logo, and a series of handwritten numbers.

He cleared his throat. "Hey, Don? Is there a Gold's Gym in that neighborhood?"

"Uh…" Donatello lined down the program he was working in and maximized another window. His brother was silent while he gazed at the screen for a bit longer, and then finally replied. "Yes. How'd you know?"

Leonardo held up the business card. "I think I accidentally found something."

* * *

"No, there has not been any sign of activity from the outside, Leonardo-san." Sayuri shifted her cell phone to her other ear. "We have already been sitting here for an hour. I don't think it would hurt to take a few steps away from the car."

"You know what you're doing, but…you won't try to go in, will you?"

"Have a little faith in us, Leonardo-san. We will take a couple of trips around the perimeter to search for evidence that the building has been recently accessed. If someone happens to see us, then our back-story is in place to explain our presence, and it is broad daylight. The only movement we have witnessed since being here was a couple of kids on their bicycles."

"Just make sure you call me a couple of times, all right? It'll make me feel better."

Sayuri smiled to herself. "We will be in touch, Leonardo-san." She nodded at Brandon as she hung up the cell phone. "He is rather protective."

The bronze-haired man laughed. "They _all_ are. But given your history of investigations, I can't completely blame him."

Sayuri scowled at him. "Let us not speak of HijutoChem ever again, Brandon-san."

He snorted. "It's probably bad luck to even bring it up. Nice to know I can continue serving as the team jinx."

"If you would refrain from fulfilling that duty on this trip, I would be grateful. All we need to do is have a simple look around and take a few pictures."

With Katherine and Greg already introduced to Viper, it'd been decided that fresh faces needed to take on the observation mission. Sayuri was a natural choice with her Detective background, and she'd been quick to volunteer before anyone else could.

The Asian woman handed Brandon a lanyard with an identification card that Donatello had whipped up on the fly. "If we should be spotted, we work for the City, and we're performing a preliminary inspection to determine the structural integrity of the Gym."

"Sounds good to me."

Sayuri felt a surprising thrill as she climbed out of the car. It'd been years since she was involved in authentic police work in Okinawa, so that even a small information gathering trip for the turtles was enough to get her blood pumping again. _I have come a long way from my days with the Akiudo_, she thought ruefully.

She adjusted a clipboard under her arm and cast a glance at her "partner" to find Brandon fiddling with his phone.

"Donny says the device is simple to use. Whatever happened to _real _cameras, that's what I wanna know," he muttered.

She smiled. "Would it make a difference, Brandon-san?"

"I'm not _completely_ helpless when it comes to technology."

Sayuri watched over his shoulder while he tried a couple more buttons, and the screen finally changed to a view finder.

"See? I got it. No problem."

Sayuri nodded more seriously. "That is good, Brandon-san. We should begin while we have the best light."

They made a pass around the front side of the structure first, with Sayuri carefully watching both directions while Brandon began taking shots of doors and blackened windows.

"The glass appears to be painted over," Sayuri remarked. "I had hoped we would be able to see inside without needing to _go_ there."

"Isn't 'inside' supposed to be off limits?"

"If you are speaking technically…" she trailed off. _I am not going to defy Leonardo-san, not on this trip. _"Let us keep moving."

"This used to be quite a place. I worked out here at least a couple of times," Brandon mentioned. "It was a state-of-the-art facility. It only opened about three months before the earthquake…and then it went under."

"It is sad," Sayuri said. "Some people and business owners could not recover."

"Maybe not to their old way of life, but at least they survived, and have the chance to seek another dream."

They crossed out of the sunlight and into the shade of an alley. Quietly the pair continued their inspection, until they reached a small set of stairs that descended lower than the street level.

Sayuri was interested at once. "Where does that lead?"

"Basement access maybe?" Brandon went down the steps, and stopped where a door _should_ have been. "At least it used to be. The doorway has been bricked in. Weird, huh?"

She nodded. "It _is_ strange, but who knows what the owners had in mind after the earthquake? Come out of there, Brandon-san, and we should continue moving."

After snapping a picture of the bricked-over door, he came up the steps to join her. "I'm surprised Leo hasn't tried calling us. It's been what, ten minutes? He might have already released the search dogs."

Sayuri chuckled, but then shook her head. "Leonardo-san is under more stress than usual. We all need to have patience with him."

"Maybe you should call him back, just the same."

Sayuri began to reach for her phone, and then realized that the man was joking. "He will feel better when we have more information. We should finish this and return to the car."

Brandon nodded. "No time for fun on this trip."


	15. Schematics

_Finding the Gym felt like a pivotal discovery. Things were finally starting to go our way. Less than 24 hours earlier to that point, we had nothing to go on. Now we had an appointment to interrupt, and more importantly, the location of where it was supposed to go down._

_In the excitement of having something to focus on, a lot of concern seemed to fly out the window. The motive for why the Dagos wanted the guns and what they were ultimately going to do with them didn't matter as much. We had a job to complete, and we'd been given the insight to do it._

_When I look back, it's _easy_ to see the things we missed, the danger we overlooked. The pieces were coming together, and "turtle luck" was working in our favor. So we started getting ready for the raid, without knowing what we were actually coming up against. Is there any battle more dangerous than the one where you don't understand your opponent? Worse…is there any fight more deadly than when you mistakenly assume that you _do_?_

* * *

Donatello stood back with amusement, watching Jazz while the woman played with the software he'd designed to create 3D models. The projected image she was experimenting with was none other than a model of _their_ home. He laughed softly as Jazz rolled her fingers over the remote to magnify the wing of the building that she shared with Brandon and Alexis.

"Are you having fun, Jazz?"

"Do you have to ask? This software is one of the coolest things ever. The minute detail, correct proportions…I could do this all day."

The woman sounded like a kid in a candy store, and Don didn't blame her. They were two of a kind in their love for all things technological, and she understood his work better than anyone else he'd ever known. It made sense to have the woman for an assistant; particularly because her parole prevented her from legally operating a computer for her own work or pleasure.

"We are going to have to _work_ at some point," he reminded her.

Jazz grinned over her shoulder. "Is that what we're supposed to be doing?"

"Eventually. Did the blueprints on the Gym finish loading?"

Her head swung around to check the monitor on the desk. "Yep – they're ready. Want me to boot them up?"

"Fire away, Jazz."

The woman handed the remote to him, and her fingers alighted across the keyboard on the desk to initiate the projection of the new structure. Jazz whistled, but never took her eyes off the computer screen.

"The Gym _alone_ is 40,000 square feet? Dear God, that is some prime real estate on the Upper East Side. This entire neighborhood is abandoned?"

Don nodded. "It didn't bounce back, financially speaking. Many of the businesses were part of a newer development. The area wouldn't support them now, even if they tried to rebuild." He gazed at the image of the entire building as a whole for a few seconds, and then tapped the screen of the remote to begin zooming in on specific angles.

"We don't have much to work with internally. All we've got at the moment are the original schematics, and there's no telling what kind of damage the structure may have suffered from the earthquake," he said thoughtfully.

Jazz turned around to see the model. "Brandon said it looked kinda beat up from the outside, but not like it was gonna fall down any time soon."

"I bet it could come back to life if the right developer came long. Of course, the 'right developer' won't want to buy property in the middle of the Graveyard. The pictures that Brandon and Sayuri brought back indicate someone's touched the property recently, but what we really need is to get some eyes inside of the building."

"Now see, Donny? This is why you need to consider building a drone or something."

The turtle shook his head. "I love computers, Jazz, but I won't send in a robot to do the job of a ninja. I've talked this through with Leo, and he agrees with me. We need to go ourselves and figure out the bones of this place before we try to stop any exchanges."

"It feels like everything is happening awfully fast, Don. I like speed and all, but if you try to corner too quickly, you might spin out – you know what I'm saying?"

"I do, Jazz. This job may not seem as vital as the one you volunteered for—"

"All I did was follow Brandon to Indian Point! I had to make sure he wasn't gonna get himself killed."

"That said, this mission isn't on the same level as terrorists trying to induce a nuclear disaster. But the clock is still running, Jazz, and time is ticking down. If we don't move fast, we might not get the opportunity to stop them. The Dago's meeting is supposed to happen next week…and the notes Leo discovered on that business card may very well be our appointment with destiny."

Jazz snorted. "More like the bad guys' date with your _fists_. I wouldn't want to be in those idiots' shoes when you catch up with them."

Donatello smirked. "I'm looking forward to that part too, but we have to get through these steps first."

"A little breaking and entering? That's kid's stuff for you guys."

"It shouldn't be difficult to manage," he acknowledged. "Calley says they don't like to mix business with pleasure, so we probably won't have to deal with unfriendlies at an 'off' hour."

Donatello zoomed in on the third level, and began his first rapid run-through toward the middle of the building. "It's going to take a while to explore it all. The architecture looks pretty impressive in places. The center of the structure is exposed to a series of massive skylights, without any obstruction from the upper levels to the ground floor. It's like one giant atrium. I bet it would also be the best place for us to break in."

Jazz laughed. "Why? Because you guys have to be as dramatic as possible?"

"That might be why _Mike_ will love the idea, but I just appreciate the ease of access. The only equipment we'd need is a couple of grappling guns."

"Do you get to make all of the plans, Genius, or do the rest of us have some say in the matter?" Raphael called from the door.

Donatello looked up from the model. "I'm not planning, Raph. This is theoretical discussion."

Raphael leaned against the doorframe with a cocky smile. "Do you _ever_ stop thinking, Donny?"

The purple-masked turtle had to consider the question. "I'm not sure that I have the choice."

"Well, you need to put away your toy for a while and come to the Great Room. Leo wants all hands on deck – that includes you too, punk." Raphael pointed at Jazz.

The woman pulled an annoyed face. "You tell him he can come here and ask nicely."

Donatello and Raphael laughed together.

"That's not the kinda thing you ought to tempt Leo with right now, Jazz; he's still sort of cranky. Besides, Kelley's here too," the older turtle added.

Donny shot to his feet. "_What?_ For how long?"

"'Bout ten minutes, Donny. Keep your shell on – you ain't missed anything."

Donatello set aside his remote and stiffly followed his brother out of the lab. Despite their standing history with Matthew Kelley, he was never comfortable when the Field Director of FBI operatives came to pay a visit.

Unlike their friends who were more of an extended family, Kelley only came around when things were falling apart at the seams. Sometimes the man was able to provide helpful information or assistance, but more often than not he was only trying to stay in the loop of whatever craziness happened to be taking place in the background of New York City.

Donatello wordlessly selected a seat near Michelangelo on a couch, and instantly met Kelley's expectant gaze.

"Now that we're all together, would someone like to tell me what the _heck_ is going on?" Matthew's voice didn't feel as booming with their higher ceilings, but the man was still capable of sounding a bit intimidating. "I can normally make a couple guesses about what you lot are up to, but this time I'm stumped. Can one of you fill in some blanks before we're all another year older?"

"The Dagos are up to something," Leo told him. "They're responsible for the attack at the Summer Blast in New Jersey."

"You know that for a _fact_?" Kelley's voice succeeded in echoing.

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "Yes. One of the Dagos confirmed it last night."

The man eyed Leonardo suspiciously. "How did you come by such a confession?"

"I was persuasive," he said flatly. "And the gun case Don found in his back-end was a perfect fit for an automatic weapon, so it didn't help his argument."

"But what led you to the Dagos to begin with?"

Calley raised her hand. "That would be me, Sir. It's all kind of complicated. After the shooting, one of them made an announcement to the crowd that sounded more like a cryptic message directed to _me_. That's why we started searching for Viper. He was my old connection with the Dagos."

Kelley scanned all the turtles' faces. "Why would they choose to identify themselves to you?"

Leonardo shook his head. "We don't have that answer, Director, but we know they're planning to buy a cache of those weapons, and where the exchange is going to take place."

Matthew massaged his forehead. "What do you intend to _do_ exactly? You can't just drop into the middle of an operation like that unarmed! I respect your ninjutsu skills, but I won't hesitate to point out that a bunch of guns could kill _you_ a lot faster than you will them."

"They're not doing it alone," Timothy cut in. "We're a team, and whatever happens, we're in this together."

"We don't have a plan of action yet," Leo admitted. "We do have a _possible_ date and time things could be going down."

"Then let professionals handle it!" Kelley insisted. "This isn't the type of thing you guys should be messing with!"

"Because we were _so_ much safer when we were facing terrorists running rampant around a nuclear power plant?" Jazz suggested.

Kelley's head whipped toward her. "Heffernan and I got _caught_ on that little trip, and we're lucky they didn't kill us on sight!" He turned back to Leonardo. "You can call in a tip to the police. I'll make sure that they take it seriously!"

"But we can't guarantee anything," Leo argued. "The date on that card might mean nothing. If the cops overrun that place and it isn't the right time, then our cover is blown…along with our best chance of stopping them! I'm not refusing to call the police for back up, Director, but we've got to do some more digging first. We have to get confirmation on the exchange before I'll agree to hand this over to someone else."

Matthew muttered a curse. "I need you to be straight with me. How did you get the information that led you to this location?"

"We cornered one of their senior members, and I pressured him."

"I take it he's still _alive_."

"You know how we operate, Director."

"I do…but I also recognize that something strange is going on here."

"We couldn't agree more," Raphael said gruffly. "But they've already killed innocent people. Do you want us to back off and let that happen again?"

"No. I want you to leave the gun battles to a highly trained team of men who _also_ carry guns."

"Our team _has_ several members who've been known to pack heat," Greg mentioned.

Leonardo gave Greg a sharp glance, and looked back at Kelly. "Director, I need you to hear what I'm saying. I'm not opposed to letting the experts do their job – but you have to let us do ours too. We need time to make sure of when the exchange will happen."

"And we need a chance to view the layout inside," Donny finally inserted.

Matthew's eyebrows rose. "Go in? Can you manage that without being seen?"

Michelangelo made a scoffing sound. "You're talking to ninjas, Director. Looking around is the easy part. The hard stuff comes later."

Kelley sighed deeply. "I hope you know what you're doing."


	16. Graveyard

Raphael felt completely at ease when he exited the dojo. It was still early in the evening and he'd experienced very few nerves over their simple reconnaissance mission to begin with, but working out with his older brother was a fantastic way to take the edge off.

The red-masked turtle stopped to gaze over at the Great Room where most of the kids were hanging out. Olivia and Tim were on their knees at the coffee table, sharing a box of crayons between them. Jonathan was playing with a few oversized Lego building blocks, locking and unlocking the connected pieces. Nathaniel was leaning against the arm of a chair looking at a book, while Reina was on the other end of the couch, alternating between staring at her drawing pad, and the young orange-masked turtle.

He smirked at Leo. "You ever wonder where they all came from?"

His brother grinned. "They _have_ multiplied, huh? I wonder how someone got them to act calm."

Calley popped up suddenly from the rug, where she'd been completely hidden from their vantage point. "The key is to keep them occupied."

Raphael ambled into the room and paused to look over his seven-year-old's shoulder. He was amused by the pink shade she was coloring her tree, but intentionally didn't laugh. "That's a nice picture you've got there, Liv."

"It needed something," she said simply. "All the trees shouldn't look the same."

"Good call, kid. I like it."

She smiled up at him. "I'll finish it, and you can have it."

"Thanks, Liv." Raphael leaned over Tim to see what the smaller turtle was working on so intently. He had a purple crayon crushed in his grip, coloring an elephant as darkly as he could. "You picked a good color too, Tim."

"See my ella-phet? Daddy, wanna see?"

The blue-masked turtle came around Raphael and kneeled down by Timothy. "Yeah, it's great, Tim."

The small turtle reached for a stray coloring book on the table and pushed it toward Leonardo. "You want one?"

"You want me to color with you?"

Tim nodded. "You can have _any_ color."

"Hm. That's an offer I can't refuse." Leonardo started flipped through pages that resembled a tropical rain forest. "What do you like, Tim?"

"Um…the monkeys!"

"It's almost time to start cleaning up, Jon," Calley reminded the two-year-old boy.

"I finish my tower?"

"See what you can get done before your dad gets here," she relented.

Raphael wandered to the couch where Reina was drawing, and his eye ridges rose when the blond girl turned to hide her work. "Are you gettin' shy on me, Reina?"

"It's not finished," she objected. "And I'm probably gonna have to start over."

"If you're 'starting over', why does it matter if I see it?"

Reina lowered the pad slowly to reveal the sketch she'd started of Nate. The paper was slightly worn, giving evidence to places she'd erased too many times, but the expression in the young turtle's face was uncannily good.

"You shouldn't scrap it, Reina. I think it's really good."

She shrugged. "It's not easy to draw one of you, _or_ to get him to sit still long enough."

The red-masked turtle chuckled. "It's better than you think, kid. Keep working on it."

"Maybe." Reina closed her sketch pad. "But that's probably all I have time for tonight." She waved at Nathaniel. "C'mere, Nate. You want me to read that to you?"

The orange-masked turtle bounced off the chair and thrust the train book into Reina's hands.

Raphael felt a tug on his belt, and looked back to see a hopeful light in his daughter's amber eyes.

"Daddy…are you going out tonight? It's been a long time since you took me on the playground."

He chuckled at Olivia's reference to their roof-top workouts. Although the kids were too young to take part in the sky-high gymnastics, Donatello had rigged harnesses as a training tool to bring Olivia and Nate along for several rides. The exercise was meant not only to prepare them for the heights, but to teach them how to locate their own way across the city-scape. Unfortunately, that kind of fun wasn't on the books for the evening.

"Sorry, baby. We gotta work tonight."

Her face instantly fell. "Oh."

"I'll take you up again soon, okay? I promise."

"Okay," Liv said softly.

Raphael patted her cheek. "Sometime this weekend maybe."

"That's fine, Daddy." She returned to the coffee table and started putting crayons away, leaving Raphael to reflect on disappointing her.

_It's only one night, and I _will_ make the time to take her up this weekend. Just because we're getting ready to take on those idiot Dagos doesn't mean I have to devote every waking minute to them. I'll leave that part to Leo and Donny. Speaking of which…_

"You think we'll be too late tonight, Fearless?"

Leo glanced up from the page he was coloring next to his son. "I doubt it, but I don't want to head over to the Gym until after 11. It might be a dead neighborhood, but that doesn't mean no one's hanging around."

"What if some Dagos are already in there, Leo?"

"Then we'll reschedule the tour, Raph. This isn't that complicated."

"True enough," he allowed. "And it's one step closer to taking the creeps down."

"What do you have to do there?" Olivia asked. "Is it dangerous?"

"It's not a huge deal, Liv. We're gonna sneak inside this building the bad guys are using, and have a look around if no one's there."

"Then you're not gonna fight anybody?"

Leo shook his head. "We'd like to avoid that on this trip."

"Can I go with you?" she ventured.

Raphael cleared his throat awkwardly. "You know I'd love to take you everywhere with us, _Kouen_, but this is still work for us. You're gonna have tons of chances to do things like this, but it isn't time for that yet."

"You never take me anywhere," she mumbled.

"That's not true, Liv!" he protested.

The chime of the elevator provided enough distraction that the girl thought she could get away. The red-masked turtle pursued Olivia as she made a bee-line for the hallway.

"Hey! Hold on a second. You don't walk away from me, Olivia."

The sullen light in her eyes was impossible to miss. "You want me down here where it's safe – I know. You've told me over and over."

"I've _also_ told you that it won't always be like this. You're gonna get bigger, and when you do, you'll have more freedom to go places and do things with us."

Olivia stared at the floor. "Okay, Daddy. Can I go to my room now?"

His forehead creased, but he didn't know what else to say to her. "Yeah, okay. I'll come check on you in a little while."

"You don't have to if you're busy."

"I'm not too busy for _you_, Kouen. Come over here."

The girl hesitated briefly, but then accepted the embrace he was offering.

"I know I've been kinda sidetracked with other stuff lately, but that doesn't mean anything's changed. You're always gonna be my little girl."

Liv shook her head. "I won't _always_ be little."

"You will be in _my_ head, kid."

* * *

The cloudy sky and shortage of working lamp posts in the neighborhood made the "Graveyard" feel like an apt nickname. The silence was unnerving, though Raphael didn't understand why. _We're safer if no one else is around. That shouldn't bother me._

Ahead of him, Raphael could see the outline of a shadow descending almost like a bird of prey from a taller building to a lower rooftop. He smirked at the mental image of Leonardo taking flight with American eagles, decked out in red, white, and blue. _I could see him being patriotic_.

Raphael heard nothing behind him, which felt unusual in itself. Donatello didn't normally make a lot of noise on these jaunts, but Mike was notorious for being incapable of keeping his mouth shut for more than five minutes. He couldn't see either of his younger brothers at the moment, but trusted that they were somewhere behind them, and opted to keep going.

They'd dropped the van off around six blocks away from the Gym to avoid bringing attention to it if someone _was_ around, and then climbed to the roofs to complete the journey.

The red-masked turtle launched off the ledge with less grace than Leonardo had employed, but with enough precision to guide him to a perfect landing. He rolled into the shadows where Leonardo was waiting, and hopped back to his feet. Raphael crossed his arms immediately, impatient for the others to catch up with them.

When the younger turtles arrived roughly 90 seconds later, it was with no separation between their landings. The blue-masked turtle motioned for everyone's attention, and crept closer to the corner of the half-wall they were using as a shield.

"Our entry point is in sight. Don, are you getting any type of signal off the Gym?"

When the purple-masked turtle came to join Leonardo at the front, Raphael spotted something _sparkly_ hanging from the zipper on his backpack, and assumed his brother wasn't responsible for it.

Donatello gazed down at his hand-held disruptor. "I'm not picking up any frequencies coming from the Gym, Leo. Nothing to suggest surveillance, security…There is a low level signal coming from _that_ building." He pointed to one behind them. "I'm not sure what it is, but it isn't unusual pick up feedback from outside sources."

"But nothing's going on inside the Gym?"

Don shook his head. "I'll keep my disruptor handy, just in case. If I get a fix on something weird, I'll shut the frequency down."

Raphael pulled teasingly on the strap of Don's backpack. "I like how you're accessorizing, Donny."

Donatello looked down at the clothes he'd donned for their mission with confusion. "What are you _talking _about? We all look the same."

"Huh uh. You got a pretty trinket on your bag."

His brother turned in a circle like he'd be able to see the jewelry, and then shrugged out of his bag to find the object. "Oh." Donny unhooked the item from his zipper and held it up in his hand. "It's Charlotte's bracelet. I wonder when she had the chance to do that."

"Aw, you can't take it off, Donny." Mike grinned. "Your little girl was thinking of you."

"I'm putting it somewhere safe so it doesn't get lost. We _are_ rappelling in," Donny pointed out.

"Then what?" Raph asked. "We still splitting up?"

"We'll cover ground faster if we do," Leo answered. "Don, you have equipment for them, don't you?"

Raphael groaned. "Don't tell me I'm stuck with the Chucklehead."

Don grinned. "Okay - I won't tell you. Who wants the radio?"

The red-masked turtle shook his head. "I hate those earpieces. Give it to Mikey."

"In that case…" Donny turned to the orange-masked turtle. "Give me the jawbreakers, right now."

"The what?" Mike sounded innocent, but none of them were foolish enough to buy it.

"I know you brought a whole bag, and I'm not listening to you crack in my ear for the next hour. Hand them over."

Michelangelo begrudgingly gave up his candy. "I _know _how much is in there."

"If you behave tonight, you'll get it back," Leo said matter-of-factly.

"You guys are _no_ fun."

Donatello searched through his bag and came out with a camera. "All you need to do is record whatever you see on your trip throughout the building. If you could refrain from messing around, or at least keep it to a minimum, I'd appreciate it."

Raphael exchanged a look with Mike and laughed. "Donny, you _sure_ you wanna pair me and Mikey up?"

"You'll be fine, and it's a good exercise in discipline," Leo clipped. "Remember, just because there's no signal coming from inside doesn't mean we're alone. Keep your eyes open, and stay aware of your surroundings."

"Yes, sir!" Mike stood at attention and saluted smartly.

Leonardo ignored him and headed toward a bank of skylights. Donatello trailed behind him, examining the panes of glass.

"It looks like I could simply remove a few of these," Donny said. "It's better not to break the windows, for the sake of evidence. We're not trying to leave a footprint, guys. Keep that in mind." He gave Raphael and Mike a meaningful look.

Don reached for his bag again. "I didn't want to travel heavy, so I only brought a couple grappling guns. We can take turns using them, and I'll leave one with you guys in case you need it."

Raphael scanned for a good place to hook up the cable while Donatello worked to release a couple of glass panels. The purple-masked turtle set them carefully aside and rose to his feet.

"Would you like to go first, Raph?"

"Why not?" He fed the line through the opening and slipped into the darkness. Raphael slowly descended into the Atrium, listening closely the entire way down.

He couldn't see any sign of light other than what faint illumination traveled through the overhead windows, and the building was as still as a tomb. Raphael felt something twinge in the pit of his stomach, but brushed it off as he landed in the center of the huge room.

He gave a tug on the cable to let the others know he'd safely landed, and threw his shoulders back boldly. _Sooner we get this done, the sooner those bastards get to go down._


	17. Investigate

When Viper first heard his phone ringing, he ignored it. The red-head sharing his bed was one of his single greatest pleasures of the week, and there were few things worthy of interrupting them. The warmth of the young woman's skin was enough for _him_ to tune the ringing out; unfortunately, his partner was having a much harder time.

She cut off a kiss suddenly, jerking her head away from him with a grunt. "Baby, will you either answer that or turn it off? It's _killing_ my mood."

The man laughed. "We don't want that, do we?" He stretched to reach his cell phone, intending to power the device down. Viper couldn't resist glancing at the screen first, and he cocked his head at the notification of ten missed calls.

"Hold on, Kayla." Viper shuffled to the edge of the mattress and hit a button to redial. "What do you want?" he demanded when someone picked up the other line.

"Viper, I've been trying and trying to reach you—"

"I can see that, nitwit. Why are you bothering me? If I don't answer after the first couple of attempts, you're supposed to refer to Shade."

"Yeah, yeah, I know…" the caller wheedled. "But, Viper, I think they're here!"

"You think who's _what? _Who are you, and where are you calling from?"

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I'm one of the acting sentries in the Graveyard tonight—"

"Someone else is scouting the perimeter?"

"No, Viper, they're _inside_! The long-range sensors went off on the roof, and now we're picking up movement in the Atrium."

Viper shot to his feet. "Already? They don't like to waste time, that's for sure. Can you confirm it's the Phantoms?"

"We didn't actually see them. Do you want us to go near the Gym?"

"No, _idiot_, I don't want them spooked! Check the footage from the Credit Union's rooftop. The way those freaks move, you'll be able to tell if it's them."

There was an annoyingly long silence on the other side of the phone. Keeping a couple of sentries on the look-out in the old Credit Union adjacent to the Gym was a winning strategy, but now Viper wished he'd been more selective in who babysat the building.

With a shaky breath, the informant finally returned. "I'm sorry, Viper. I had to watch the video on the laptop a couple of times to be certain. They crossed our roof not twenty minutes ago."

"How many?"

"There was a little bit of a delay between them, but all four eventually made it to the Gym."

Viper laughed. "Coming to get a peek before the big show? Well, I'm flexible. If they want to die early, more power to them."

"Sir? Is there something we should be doing?"

"Keep watching the long-range sensors until I call you back. I need to get the ball rolling on my end, and then you're going to want to get out of that area entirely. I'll give you a heads up before it's time."

"All right, Viper. We'll wait to hear from you."

He hung up without another word, and cast a backward glance at the voluptuous woman pouting in his bed. "Don't be like that, Kayla. This is the opportunity of a lifetime."

"So you _are_ leaving?"

Viper put down his phone and reached for the clothes he'd tossed carelessly aside earlier. "I have to, Baby. Duty calls…but I'll be back later, and in a better mood, in case you feel like hanging around."

"Got anything good to drink?"

"You know your way around my liquor. Help yourself, and I should be back in about an hour and a half."

The man trotted out of his room and headed down the hall, then stopped by another door close to the stairs. He pounded his fist insistently on the door frame for ten seconds straight.

"Get lost!" Shade shouted from inside.

Viper shook his head and rapped his fist harder on the wood.

The door was flung open with rage, but his friend relaxed when he saw him. "Oh. What's up?"

"The Phantoms. You wanna be a part of this, or not?"

Shade grinned. "I'll rouse the techs. Is this going to be the finale?"

"It's early, but it doesn't matter. All the pieces are already in place and the freaks picked the perfect spot to 'infiltrate', so there's no reason not to go forward."

"I'll meet you with the boys downstairs."

Viper nodded and went down the first set of steps, traveling down two more flights to a shared common area on the first floor. He walked into the room silently, and gazed around at the various groupings of young men and women entertaining themselves.

"Everybody out!" he commanded forcefully.

The entire crowd responded as one, scattering from positions and running to the door, leaving warm seats behind. Viper crossed the room to get to the wide-screen television, and adjusted the input setting to the computer channel. He sat down on the couch to wait for his technical team to arrive, lounging with one arm sprawled across the back of it. He flicked a finger across an unopened beer that was still cold, and uncapped the bottle with a flourish.

Viper only had to wait a couple more minutes before more footsteps entered the room. "Come and have a seat, my friends."

The two individuals flanking Shade didn't fit the normal profile to be living among the gang or taking part in their business, but they were precisely the men Viper needed to complete their most important mission to date.

One of them shifted a laptop under his arm. "Do you want us to set up here?"

"Wherever you're comfortable. I want you to be able to make use of the wide-screen, so I thought the common room would be best. Would either of you gentlemen care for a drink?"

Viper's question was a fake courtesy; he didn't expect either of his specialists to accept the offer, not with the job they were responsible for.

"I think we'll be fine," the first said. "Have you activated the power inside the Gym yet?"

"No. I thought I'd allow our invaders to settle in a while longer, and give you time to double-check your connections. I hope you aren't anticipating any failure in the mechanisms," Viper said warningly.

"We've tested everything extensively, including the range on the remotes. If you'll give us the chance to boot up, then we'll be prepared to trigger on your word."

* * *

Leonardo cast the purple-masked turtle a secretive glance. He was carrying a flashlight for Donatello, even though his brother was making use of one of his headlamps too. There had been nothing but silence between them thus far while Don took digital footage of their side of the Atrium.

There was evidence of where work-out equipment had once stood, but the pieces were moved from their original locations, cast up against the walls in an unorganized manner. Leonardo had observed several graffiti tags on the floor and walls; symbols and lettering that the Dagos were known for using.

"I'd say it's pretty clear they've hung out here, wouldn't you?" Leo broke his peace.

His brother nodded. "They weren't shy about it, not that I'd expect them to be. Anyone who engages in the type of activity they did at the Festival doesn't have much fear of getting caught."

"But they _weren't_ caught," the blue-masked turtle grumbled. "That bothers me. I can't believe they were able to simply waltz out there, and pull something like that off."

"They're _going_ to get caught," Don corrected. "That's why we're here."

Leonardo growled under his breath. "I hate it. If I could get my hands on that Viper again…"

Donny stopped abruptly, staring him in the eye. "You're going to be okay with this, aren't you? The other night was sort of intense."

Leo nodded. "I already got this talk from Raph and Mike."

"Just the same…are you sure you're all right?"

He hesitated. "I will be. I'll be a lot better when all of this is over."

"It's ugly business," Don said quietly. "_Everyone_ will be better off when these guys are contained. Have you given any more thought to what Kelley said?"

Leonardo snorted. "You mean bringing in cops? Kelley raised a valid point about needing weapons to counteract their guns, but…I don't know. We're still not positive when the meeting is happening, which means we need to lie in wait a bit longer. Whether the police can fit into that plan or not…I can't tell you yet. What do you think about it?"

Donatello shrugged. "The NYPD can bring down bad guys, but like you said, we don't know when to expect the meeting for certain. That makes it harder to involve outside forces in advance."

"What about _our_ forces?" Leo murmured. "I'm not sure our own people have ever been this vocal. Greg, Kat, Tim…do I need to go on?"

"There's nothing unusual about them assisting us on a mission, Leo."

"Granted, but they're more aggressive than normal. We need their help, but that doesn't necessarily mean I want them on Ground Zero with guns blazing."

"I wish there were _no_ guns blazing."

"Dare to dream, Don," he said grimly. "My gut says the Dagos won't fall any other way. They'll force a gunfight...which is why we have to be ready to shut them down ahead of time." Leonardo paused as something occurred to him. "What would you say to some 'chemical warfare'?"

Donny nodded. "It could work. Drugging them would be our best bet for a non-lethal confrontation on all accounts. That _is _still our goal, isn't it?"

"Don, I'm not going to kill Viper – not unless he gives me no other choice." _And I probably won't be that lucky. _He tapped his brother's shoulder. "We should keep moving. Raph and Mikey will get too far ahead of us."

Donatello chuckled. "Not likely, the way they prefer to mess around. I'm sure they'll get us useable footage, but they'll have fun doing it."

Leo smiled. "That's not so bad, is it? You and I could stand to have a little more fun, Don. Balance in everything, remember?"

"Fun," he repeated. "I haven't had much lately."

"You need to schedule some more when we're finished with the Dagos."

"We _need_ a vacation," Donny filled in. "Maybe next month, if we can force our friends to get away too."

"That sounds great right now." Leonardo flashed his light further down their path, noting the trail of fresh food wrappers and trash. "Brandon said this place was pretty nice once. It managed to withstand the earthquake, but it wasn't enough to save it."

"Judging from the state of the walls, Leo, I'd say it suffered some foundational damage. That gets pricey really quick."

Leo nodded thoughtfully. "How long has it been since you spoke to one of the others?"

"Oh, Mike keeps cutting in randomly, but I'm ignoring him mostly. He doesn't have anything to tell me; he's just sore about me confiscating his candy."

Leonardo snickered. "They'll be calling you 'hall monitor' next."

"You wouldn't want him crunching in your ear all night either."

Leo grinned. "I never said I disagreed with you." He shone his flashlight higher, and noticed they were approaching a hallway. "Do you want to check that out?"

"We may as well do it now, instead of backtracking later."

The blue-masked turtle led the way, but slowed down when he heard a low tone beeping. "What's that, Don?"

Donny reached for the disrupter. The device was hanging on a lanyard around his neck for easy access. "Uh…" He pressed a button to light up the display. "Wait a minute. It just detected a couple of new frequencies opening."

"Where are they coming from?"

"I have to pinpoint them." Don shifted through a couple of screens on the device. "They're definitely coming from this building. I need a few more seconds to lock on their origin path and shut them down if necessary."

Leo crossed his arms as inexplicable goosebumps ran down his neck. "Do you think someone else is here? Maybe we should warn Raph and Mike to be safe."

"One thing at a time. The first frequency relates to a radio transmission of some kind…it has a strong under-lying signal, but I can't tell you what it's controlling."

"Let's call the others. I don't like that we haven't hear—"

The eruption of a miniature explosion over their heads made both turtles jump, and Leo's flashlight whirled around wildly. The blue-masked turtle lunged to the side as the first few pieces of debris rained down, shoving an already-moving Donatello as he went. As shocking as the first sound had been, it was eclipsed by the larger rumble that exploded in its wake.


	18. Rubble

When Donatello opened his eyes, he felt like they were still closed. The only thing that immediately registered was complete darkness as far as he could see. The shock of what had just occurred took a few more seconds to catch up with him, and that was when he realized that one hand was still braced protectively over his skull.

Besides his head, his right shoulder was the one thing that _didn't_ feel buried. He forced his arm out of the defensive position, and felt around to find the floor. The purple-masked turtle used his elbow like a lever to help lift himself from the rubble, testing how far he could rise. His right leg moved easily under the debris, but the weight pinning his shell down was another story.

Donny tried to move his left leg, and stopped short with a startled grunt. His thigh was braced against something sharp, and he felt flesh tear along with the attempt for freedom. He struggled to rotate his left arm, but gave up when a heavy object shifted on his shoulder. _Okay…okay. This isn't a good spot, but I'm alive. Nothing _feels _broken, but if I fight too much that might change. _

He glanced at his right hand, and remembered that he _had _been clutching his bo. Adrenaline and instinct kicked in upon the second explosion, and he recalled using his weapon to help gain greater distance from the center of the impact. Now there was no sign of his bo, and he couldn't remember trying to protect his head.

_Everything happened too _fast_. The two explosions were so close to each other, they had to be connected. I hate to think the new frequencies had anything to do with the destruction, but the timing probably isn't coincidental. Shell, I hope my disruptor survived. I'd better…_The thought trailed off as a panicked one replaced it. _Leo! Where did he end up?_

Donatello twisted his neck, craning to look behind him, but it did little good. Even if his oldest brother _was_ nearby, it was too dark to see him.

"Leo?" His voice sounded oddly high-pitched in his ears, but it didn't deter him from trying again. "Leo! Are you there? Give me some sign that you're okay! _Leo!_"

The crushing fear that washed over him conquered his sense of self-preservation, and Don desperately tried to claw free from the hindering obstacles. Knifing pain responded in his hip and traveled all the way down his leg, making his next cry hoarser. "C'mon, Bro! Answer me!"

"_Donny!_" The distant voice that returned wasn't his blue-masked brother, but Raphael was welcome nonetheless. "Don, keep yelling! We'll find you!"

Donatello inhaled deeply, both to control his anxiety over Leonardo and to fill his lungs with air so he could shout louder. "Raph! Mikey! We're over here! HURRY!" He propped up on his right arm and took another great breath. "We're trapped, guys! I can't hear Leo – I don't know where he is!"

Don trembled with exertion as he fought the weight on his left shoulder again, but the ill-fated effort caused rubble to slip down farther against his shell, flattening him on his plastron. His free arm couldn't gain him any more headway. _Stop struggling. Stop panicking. Raph and Mike are okay, and they're coming!_

"Raph! Mike!" His volume was hampered by his inability to raise his chest, and he hoped they could still hear him. "We're over here…stuck…" Donny exhaled when he saw the beams of their flashlights. "Just a little farther, guys! Keep coming!"

He heard a loud curse from Raphael. "What the shell _happened_? Donny?"

Donatello resisted the urge to move, forcing himself to lie still as his red-masked brother leaned close to his face.

"Are you okay, Donny? Does anything hurt badly?"

"I think I'm okay," he returned through clenched teeth. "Can you get me out of this? We have to find Leo!"

"Don't get excited on me, Bro," Raphael urged him. "You gotta stay calm, all right?"

"I'm doing my best." Donatello saw the flash of the second light out of the corner of his eye.

"Is that part of a steel column?" Mike sounded dumbfounded. "How'd this happen, Donny?"

"Don't matter, Chucklehead," Raphael inserted. "Let's get it off 'im and we can focus on questions next."

Don closed his eyes at his brothers' combined grunt, and took an easier breath the moment the heaviest of the rubble lifted from his shell.

"Careful, Mikey, don't swing that thing! Okay, just let me step over…I'm good! And…drop!"

The purple-masked turtle winced at the _bang _the support made when it landed, but then realized he was probably safe to stir under the rest of the debris.

"Wait, Donny – let us work on this." Michelangelo's voice remained steady, but Don sensed it was probably a front.

"Watch my left leg," he warned. "There's something really sharp down there."

"We got this, Donny," Raphael assured him.

"Raph, you have to start looking for Leo! He's _got _to be close by. I know he was behind me."

"Bro, you need take it easy. We're gonna find him, but it won't take long to finish freeing you either. Maybe you could tell us what happened here."

Don swallowed but couldn't contain a shudder. "Didn't you hear the explosions?"

"We heard something all right, but we didn't know what it was. Did it come out of nowhere?"

Donatello gazed down at the spot on which he'd been lying as they helped him partially up. He saw the cracked remnants of his disruptor along with pieces of his radio and sighed heavily. "I don't think it came out of nowhere. My disruptor was still on…it warned me about a couple of new frequencies on the grid. I was in the middle of locking on to their source when all of this came down on top of us."

"Then you think that signal had something to do with this?" Raphael demanded.

"I can't find an—" His word erupted into a cry of pain when his left leg was pulled from the rubble.

The red-masked turtle cursed again, but then his arms came around Donatello's back, tugging on the mutilated straps of his bag. "Don, your leg's bleeding pretty bad, okay? We're gonna elevate it and pack in some Quikclot* for starters."

Don felt like he was on the verge of a dream while he rested briefly in Raphael's grasp.

"It's _deep_, Raph," he heard Mike say. "It doesn't really look broken though."

"It's not," Donatello murmured. "I can move it; it just...hurts."

"I don't _want_ you to move it yet," Raph insisted. "You might need to take my packs of Quikclot too, Mikey."

"No," Don objected. "Listen, we don't know how badly Leo is injured. Don't use all the supplies on me. Focus on the worst spots, and then, if it's bound tightly I could probably walk on it."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Genius."

"Raph, I'm okay. Bruised, scraped, and cut up, but I'm in one piece. Find Leo!"

His older brother dragged a chunk of concrete up behind him. "Here. It won't be comfortable, but you can lean against this for now. Mikey, you okay down there?"

"I'm fine. I'll help you search for Leo as soon as Donny's leg looks better."

Donatello smiled in spite of himself. The heavier first aid training Doc had insisted his brothers start receiving years before were paying off again. He could feel Mike's nerves, but the younger turtle wasn't hesitating to dig into the wound track so he could apply the hemostatic agent that was so effective at controlling bleeding.

The purple-masked turtle tried to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't hide every painful response during the process. He caught his brother looking up at him with concern, and waved him off. "The fact that it hurts means you're doing it right. Keep going, Mikey. Leo needs us!"

Michelangelo obediently continued wrapping his leg with makeshift strips from what used to be his shirt. "We lose more clothes out in the field than anywhere else," he said tongue in cheek. "As long as it goes to a worthy cause, it's okay by me."

Don managed another smile for him. "You're doing good, Mike."

"Yeah, well, you can teach a turtle a few new tricks once in a while. Do you think I'm getting it tight enough?"

Donny nodded. "There's only so much you can do with that type of homemade bandage."

Mike guided his injured limb against a small pile of debris. "Keep it elevated, Bro. Do you hurt seriously anywhere else?"

Don took quick stock of himself again, but then shook his head. "Don't worry about any of the smaller lacerations for now. My gear seems to be the only lost cause."

"You're more important than your tech stuff, Donny."

Donatello appreciated the sentiment, but his stomach churned at the thought of the broken disruptor. _Even if I could identify the source of the frequencies, it wouldn't help us. With the device busted, I can't shut anything down. _"Mike, do you still have your radio?"

The orange-masked turtle took off his headset and handed it over. "It's safer with you. You sure you don't feel anything else?"

"Positive. Help Raph find Leo."

Michelangelo nodded and began digging into a pile of rubble between where Raphael was searching and Don was waiting.

As Donatello hooked the radio back to his belt, he had the urge to check for his phone. His hand grazed the flap where the device _should_ have been, but the only thing he found was Charlotte's bracelet. He automatically groaned over the missing cell, but reasoned that they probably had bigger problems.

The purple-masked turtle flexed his leg, wincing with frustration. _It could have been worse, but we don't have Leo yet…and we don't know what could happen next. _He stared nervously at the ceiling, pondering the two explosions. _It seems oddly controlled. The damage was retained to this immediate vicinity, and I'm sure that's not coincidental either. _

_It's possible they packed some type of plastic explosive into the ceiling supports. It would have been easy to mold them to fit whatever shape they needed, and it wouldn't require much to bring down the individual beams. A substance like C4 would also be stable until introduced to another violent reaction…_His eyes widened at the thought. _The first signal appeared to be a radio transmission. It could have controlled the detonation!_

A thousand different thoughts ran through his mind at once, but he couldn't focus on any of them because Mike's voice was ringing loudly in his ears.

"Raph! Raph, I've got Leo! I've got him! I need your help!"

The older turtle charged over to Mike's position and bent down to help Michelangelo lift a shadowy object off the miniature mountain mostly hiding the blue-masked turtle from view.

Donny held his breath while he tried to be patient with them, but he couldn't stay quiet for long. "Is Leo okay? Guys, tell me if he's okay!"

Raphael glanced his direction, hesitating. "He's hurt, Donny. Junk had him pinned on his shell."

"Head injury?"

"Definitely."

"Check his neck."

Raphael didn't say anything for several seconds. "It doesn't feel broken, Genius, but one of his legs has gotta be."

Don's frustration increased a hundred-fold. "Do you think you can _carefully_ bring him to me?"

"Is it safe to move him?" Mike asked.

"Safer than staying here!" Donny replied bluntly.

He bit his lip nervously while he watched his brothers take painstaking care to lift Leonardo. They returned to Donatello like they were in slow motion, and eased the blue-masked turtle back down.

"Light! I need light!" Donny ordered, drawing his leg down from where it'd been propped.

"Don, you have to give yourself a chance to stop bleeding too," Raph chided him.

"We may not have time for that!" Donatello pointed at the ceiling. "This wasn't an accident, remember? I identified a radio transmission a couple of seconds before the detonations. I think someone may have set them off by remote, and there's no reason to believe there aren't more explosives!" His brothers' expressions made him regret being so forthright, but he didn't know what else to do. "Bottom line – we have to get out _now_."

"Okay, we're with ya on that, Donny," Raphael agreed. "You think we can escape the same way we came in?"

"It might not be the best method for transporting Leo, but I'm more concerned about all of us _surviving_ than hurting him in the short-term. Light please," he requested again.

Donatello put on a calm face for the sake of the others, but he couldn't help sucking a sharp breath as he probed Leonardo's skull. "Linear fracture. I don't envy the headache he'll have."

"Is it bad, Donny?" Mike asked softly.

"It needs to be treated," he acknowledged, and ran his hand down Leo's right side. He grimaced at the depth of a gouge wound and shook his head. "Quikclot please! I'm going to need something to bind this too!"

"On it, Bro," Raphael told him.

"Mike, shine the light farther down for me," Don requested. The unnatural angle of the blue-masked turtle's right leg was unmistakable. "You're right, Raph; it's broken. We need to find something to use to carry him."

Raphael nodded, but then gave him another once-over. "Are you gonna be okay to walk?"

"Given a couple more minutes to rest while I try to pull Leo together, yeah, I'll make it. We don't have a choice, in any case. We have to get out of here before something like this happens again."

Donatello bent over Leonardo to hide tremor that accompanied his words. _Dear God, what if this was the Dago's plan all along?_


	19. Searching

Michelangelo was mostly focused on carrying his end of the improvised backboard they were using to transport Leonardo, but since he was walking backwards, he was distracted by watching Donatello too. He'd come across his brother's bo in the rubble by pure chance, and Don was using his weapon to help navigate the uncertain terrain. The purple-masked turtle started out very slowly behind them, but gradually picked up a little speed.

He would rather his injured brother wasn't hobbling around at all, but Donatello didn't want to wait behind while they checked the skylights, and Mike wasn't keen on letting him out of sight either. _Not with the chance that the sky is going to start falling again. _The paranoid thought made Michelangelo look up to the ceiling, nerves twisting through his gut. _It's so dark, and we have no clue how many bombs could be out there. It's like being stalked by a wild animal we can't even see coming._

"How are you doin', Donny?" Raphael called suddenly.

"I'm okay! I told you my leg isn't broken."

"That doesn't mean you should be running a marathon on it. We're almost to the skylights, and then we can take another minute to figure out how we're gonna do this."

Not hurting their injured brothers worse was paramount in Mike's mind, but the urge to get out of the Gym was swelling even stronger. _Whatever it takes, we have to make it work. Leo and Donny are depending on us._

The faint natural light that filtered through the glass ceiling gave them a goal to travel toward, since their hands were too full to use their flashlights. With a minor adjustment, Donatello had discovered that his head lamp _was_ still working, but his light only illuminated behind them.

"Hey, Mikey, let's pull up over here, okay?" Raphael suggested, and then glanced over his shoulder. "We're gonna go a bit father, Donny, and find a safe place to hook up. Can you stay here and keep an eye on Leo?"

"That's probably all I'm good for at the moment," the purple-masked turtle muttered.

Raphael motioned his head to Mike, and they gently set their oldest brother down together. "You might wanna get a better look at Leo while you have the chance, Don. Me and Mike will be right back."

Donatello's expression was more anxious than Mike was prepared for, but the cover of darkness probably made his brother feel like he didn't have to hide it. Don retrieved the grappling guns from his bag, and the orange-masked turtle almost laughed at their battered, bent-up state.

"It doesn't appear they were seriously damaged from the support column, so we shouldn't have a problem using them," Donny said quietly. "Mike, can I use your cell phone? I think the flashlight application will come in handy."

Mike handed over his phone, and accepted one of the guns from Don.

"We'll be back soon," Raphael repeated when Donatello gave him the other gun.

Michelangelo fidgeted nervously with his grappling gun as they passed under the skylights. He watched his older brother study the blocks of windows.

"Didn't Donny take out the panes on the far right?" Raph checked.

"Yeah," Mike agreed, and lifted his hand to point them out. "Should be those two."

"All right. I'm gonna try to connect with something on the roof." Raphael steadied his breathing while he concentrated on aiming, then fired the hook with practiced accuracy. He tugged on the cable experimentally and exhaled with relief. "It feels secure, Mike. I might have you help Donny out of here. I know he says he's okay, but I have my doubts."

"You and me both, but we'll have to let the docs be the judge of that."

Raphael groaned. "They'll have a few words for us. This was supposed to be simple recon, and Leo's coming back with a fractured skull? It's ridiculous."

"What matters is that we're making it out," Mike said reasonably. "After all, this could have been worse."

His brother punched his shoulder. "Whatsa matter with you? Quit trying to jinx us, Mikey! We'd probably be safer if you kept your mouth shut."

Mike smirked at him and took a step forward with his grappling gun. He cocked his head to one side while he adjusted the barrel and aimed for the right spot to unload. He fired and felt the satisfying jolt a few seconds later, indicating that the hook had landed safely. Michelangelo pulled on his line and nodded. "Feels good, Raphy. How are we getting Leo up there?"

"I'm hoping Donny's thought of something by no—"

Without warning, a flash lit across the panels of glass. Rough hands were on Mike's shoulders before the rumble even reported back to their ears, and his brother's muscular frame hurled him several feet. By the time the explosion caught up to them, Mike was somersaulting farther out-of-the-way.

Michelangelo's breath heaved in his chest as dust settled, and he scrambled to get his feet underneath him. "Raph!"

"Here, Mikey!" The red-masked turtle was a couple of feet to his right, climbing off the ground. "I'm okay - are you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" He looked back, shuddering at the _new_ pile of devastation lying below where the skylights used to be.

"Raph! Mike!" Donatello's urgent shout cut through the shock over the near miss with the explosion.

"Don, we're all right!" Raphael yelled back. "We're not hurt. Are you and Leo okay?"

"It didn't touch us!"

"Good! Stay put, and Mike and I are heading back around to you!" Raphael sighed deeply. "You still got your light, right, Mikey? I accidentally pitched mine when I was running."

Michelangelo nodded glumly. He could _hear_ the nerves in Raphael's voice now, and it made him feel more anxious too. _So much for an easy escape. Why'd I have to go and open my big mouth?_

As they picked their way around the rubble to return to their other brothers, Mike's flashlight beam fell on what appeared to be part of a broken cable. The orange-masked turtle clambered over a couple larger pieces of debris for a closer look at what was _left_ of their grappling guns.

"What are you doing, Mike?"

Mike held up the sheered off end of one of the lines. "Raph, I'm just guessing, but I think somebody _really_ doesn't want us to get out of here."

His brother growled angrily. "That's too dang bad, 'cause we're gonna find another way. C'mon, Mikey – Don's gotta be worried."

He came down at once and they followed the trail of rubble around to the spot where they'd left Donatello with Leonardo. When his flashlight beam fell on Don, he found his brother bracing his leg awkwardly and resting his forehead in his hands.

"Donny!" Raphael snapped before Mike could. "You okay?"

Normally gentle brown eyes were wide with distress. "What happened?"

The older turtle shook his head. "We got the cables hooked up…and the ceiling came down."

Donatello's breathing hitched. "That's what I was afraid of. They're watching us. Tracking our movement somehow…they're not going to let us escape."

Raphael's hand gripped Don's shoulder firmly. "There's another way out, and we'll find it."

Mike stiffened at the report of _another_ rumble, but it sounded farther away. "What do you suppose that one was for?"

Donny's hands trembled as he lowered them. "We've been set up. It's a death trap."

"We'll _find_ another way!" Raph insisted. "Donny, I know this looks bad, but it isn't the first time we've been inside a crumbling building, and it probably won't be the last!"

Don took a couple of deliberate breaths. "Then we'd better start looking. Those explosives are strangely contained, but the building is only going to take so many hits before it starts to collapse or catches on fire."

Mike crossed his arms. "If they wanna kill us so bad, why not concentrate their firepower all in one spot? Boom: we're dead."

Donatello shrugged. "They're probably getting some thrill over scaring or injuring us _before_ they kill us."

Raphael pounded his fist against his palm. "We're _not_ gonna die. We'll get outta here, and make those Dagos wish they'd never screwed with us."

Don pushed himself upright with the use of his bo, grunting painfully as he straightened his leg. "I would settle for escaping at this point."

"You have your goals, Genius, and I've got mine. You think you're all right to keep walking on that thing?"

"If I'm not all right, I'll be on the ground. Until that happens, don't bother to keep asking." Don's tone was sharp, but Raphael seemed unfazed.

"Don't tell us not to keep an eye on you, Donny. We're all getting out _together_."

"I'm just as determined as you are to try to make that happen."

"We're ninjas, Bro; we don't 'try', we _do_," Mike said emphatically.

"Then let's move. I'll keep closer to you guys and provide some light if you'd like to see where you're going."

Raphael and Mike resumed their spots at the makeshift gurney.

"Where do you think we ought to head, Donny?" Raph asked.

"We're in the center of the building and we need to get outside, so we'll have to take a connecting hallway. Leo and I were closing in on one, but it got cut off by the first detonation. I'm sure there has to be another on the West side."

"Then we'll go that way," the red-masked turtle said coolly. "And I'll assume you're okay unless you say something, Don. I'm safe to do that, right?"

"You'll notice if I collapse, because you won't have any light," Don retorted. "Get moving, you two. I'm right behind you."

* * *

Michelangelo found the silence almost unbearable. It meant he heard every time Donny stumbled, and the way Raphael's breathing quickened every so often. Worse were the distant thunder and reverberations, each one signifying another attack somewhere on the building. When the floor shook under his feet, the orange-masked turtle froze in his tracks.

"We can't stop," Raphael said quietly. "There's no telling how long we have, or if Donny's gonna stay on his feet. I _know_ he can't keep this up forever."

Michelangelo nodded and glanced back at Donatello. "He's staying with us pretty good, Raph. Donny might not be as bad off as we're thinking. He's more of an expert than we are."

"He's also feeding off some mega adrenaline, but when that runs out, we're going to need to pick up the slack for him."

"I can hear you," Don announced. "I'm injured – not deaf."

"Who said we were keeping secrets, Donny?" Raphael shot back. "Put your energy into walking and not jumping to conclusions."

"I _am_, Raph."

Mike nearly laughed at the irritation in Donatello's voice. Despite their circumstances, it was nice to hear his brothers bicker. He was sorry when the conversation died back down to silence. Devoid of another distraction, he looked down at Leonardo. The blue-masked turtle hadn't stirred since the moment he'd found him. _He's getting off "easy" on this trip; that is if a cracked skull could be considered no big deal. Man, I wish Leo was at the head of the pack right now. We'd probably all feel better if he was. But we've got his shell, and we're not gonna let anything else happen to him._

"Mikey," Raphael called him back. "Hold up a minute. Donny, shine your light over there to the right. Does that look like another door?"

They hesitated with Leonardo and Donatello limped a couple of steps beyond them to light up their surroundings.

Don's hand tightened around his bo. "There's an open doorway all right, and it probably leads to another hall. Let's go."

"Stop." Raphael caught his arm. "I want you to wait with Leo again, and Mikey and I will scout it out first."

It was clear Donatello didn't like being _forced_ to rest, but a sharp look from Raphael got him to fall back. "All right. I'll hold down the fort…but hurry, okay?"

Raphael nodded. "We'll go as fast as we can, Bro."

Michelangelo didn't like leaving the injured pair alone; they would be back quickly if _he_ had anything to say about it. The orange-masked turtle shone his flashlight along the outside wall they were approaching, searching for signs of imminent danger. _What, like the bad guys would post a warning? It'd be nice if they were all so accommodating._

The red-masked turtle went to the right using his own cell phone to scan their surroundings, so Mike went the other way. The beam of his light traveled hovered curiously over stacks of dismantled exercise equipment. _I wonder if the Dagos did this, or if the owner just couldn't salvage anything. Seems like an awful waste._

He began to train his flashlight farther down the wall, but a small piercing red dot caught his attention from the midst of the old rubble. Something clicked in his mind, and he had just enough time to lunge backwards several feet before his legs were lifted off the ground by the force of a shockwave that slammed into his plastron.


	20. Options

Raphael blinked rapidly and shook his head. He was somewhat dazed as he looked around with bleary eyes, and tried to figure out _why_ he was on the ground. He groaned while he gained his feet, a little sore, but unhurt otherwise.

A faint glow to the left caught his eye, and he stretched out a hand to retrieve a cell phone. _His_ phone. Not only was the device working, but the flashlight application was still running as well. The red-masked turtle gazed at the screen for a couple of seconds, and then everything came rushing back to his mind. _It was another bomb! But it sounded smaller, and felt like it came from the floor, the same direction that Mikey was…_His breath seized violently in his chest.

"_Mike!_" Raphael held his phone light up high, rapidly scanning the immediate surroundings for his little brother.

"Raph?" A tense voice answered him, but it wasn't Michelangelo's. "Where did _that_ come from?"

"I don't _know_, Donny! Stay where you are – I'm looking for Mike!"

Raphael stumbled forward on wary feet, searching, praying that the orange-masked turtle was all right. He saw his brother's shell first; the textured surface was a sharp contrast to the tattered debris he was surrounded by. He saw Mike shift slightly on the ground, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

"You _scared_ me, Mikey! Don't do that!" He expected a quip in return, but it didn't come. "Mike?" Raphael crossed around the youngest turtle, brow creasing at the curled up position in which he was lying. "You okay, Chucklehead?"

He lowered his cell phone light and stared at his brother, spell-bound by the sheared steel that seemed to be embedded in Mike's lower plastron. When he found his voice, it was only to curse several times in a row.

Blue eyes rotated but didn't quite fix on him. "T-hat good…huh?"

Raphael dropped to his knees with the urge to beat the ground, but he put an arm around his brother's shoulders instead. "I don't want you to try and move again. Don will know what to do."

"It _burns_…"

"I know, I'm sorry, Mikey. I'm gonna get Donny."

"Wa-watch…light."

"What?"

"Red. Light."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bro, but you'd better save your breath. Keep those eyes open so I can see 'em. I'm just gonna call Donny." Rising swiftly, he shouted over his shoulder. "Don – Mike's hurt! I need you _now!_"

"Where are you?" The instant reply was the loudest yet.

Raphael held up his device. "All I've got is my phone, but you should be able to see it!"

"I'm coming!"

Raphael's concern over whether Donatello was steady on his feet was swallowed by sudden and terrible fear for the orange-masked turtle. When he glanced back down, his brother's eyes were already closed. "Mike, you gotta open your eyes. Don will fix everything."

Mike's chest rose and fell awkwardly, but he didn't bother to reply. The sound was too labored for Raphael's liking, and he dropped beside Michelangelo again, cradling his chin in one hand.

"Hey, Mikey. C'mon and open your eyes, Bro."

"Raph." He groaned softly. "…s' trap…the light."

"I know you're trying to tell me something, Mike, but I don't want you to wear yourself out." Raphael was trying not to look at the sharp metal shards buried in his brother's plastron, but the largest was like a hideous car accident he couldn't turn away from.

"Raph?" Donatello's head lamp swept across the both of them, and it was followed by a bone-chilling gasp. The purple-masked turtle darted to the floor, heedless of his own injury.

"Don…" Mike's voice was a little weaker. "Burns."

"Mike, I'm right here." Donatello sounded more like himself, instead of the anxious, slightly doomed tone he'd taken minutes before. He grasped one of Michelangelo's hands tightly. "We're both with you. I want you to concentrate on taking shallow breaths, and don't try to move on your own."

The orange-masked turtle mumbled something indiscernible, and rolled his head in Raphael's hand. His eye-lids flickered as though they would open, but nothing else happened. Raph turned to watch Donatello examining the worst of their brother's war wounds, and decided to continue coaxing Mike to stay awake.

"You're being a tough guy hanging in here, Mike. No tears even – I'm impressed." One corner of Mike's mouth turned up, but he didn't say anything.

"You could open your eyes, couldn't ya, Mikey? You know everything's gonna be okay."

His brother's eyes stirred that time, but his vacant gaze appeared to pass right through the red-masked turtle. "Raphy, I wish…" Mike's head lolled weakly in his hands, and Raphael swore again.

"You ain't never given up that easily, Mikey, and you won't now. I know you better than that."

When the orange-masked turtle went still, Raphael tensely checked for a pulse on his neck, resting it on the spot for several seconds before accepting that the youngest turtle wasn't perishing in front of them. _At least not yet…_He prodded Michelangelo one more time to be certain that his brother was out, then turned to Donatello.

"How bad is it?"

Don _looked _shaken but somehow his voice remained steady. "I don't know. Without my scanner it's impossible to tell how far the steel buried, or if his organs have been affected. It may have only been a surface penetration."

"What do you _really_ think, Donny?"

"I'm fairly certain he's suffered internal injury, but there's no telling how large the shard is. We can't touch it for now without running the risk of either injuring him more severely, or causing him to possibly bleed out."

"Don, he was trying to tell me something. He mentioned a red light more than once. I don't know if Mike was seeing things that weren't there, or if he was really warning me."

"That explosion didn't originate from the ceiling like the others," Donny said quietly.

"No…it had to have come from near the wall, where Mike was scanning with his light."

Donatello changed positions on the ground, wincing as he stretched his leg. "It sounds like the sky falling isn't our only obstacle. Raph…I want to try something, okay? Stay where you are."

The purple-masked turtle forced himself to rise, and selected a palm-sized stone in his hand.

"What are you doing, Genius?"

"Just wait." He drew his arm back and threw the rock, sending it sailing through the door frame not fifty feet away from them.

The instantaneous flash made Raphael duck lower to the ground clutching his brother's side protectively, even as his ears rang for the second time in less than ten minutes. Donatello jerked backwards so hard that he tripped over his own feet and ended up on his shell.

"Are you all right?" Raph demanded.

"Uh…yeah."

"Why the _shell_ did you do that?!"

"It was an experiment, Raph! This whole place has been booby-trapped, _designed _to sign our death certificates." Don sat up slowly, and used his bo to assist him in rising once more. "I have to get a little closer."

"Are you _crazy?_ You're not doing anything like that!"

"Raph. Unless we're choosing to give up right now, we have to keep trying. Maybe it's possible to use some means to set off their ground traps without being caught in them ourselves. I need to know what's in that hallway."

"How are you gonna do that?"

"Do you still have the digital recorder I gave you?"

Raphael yanked the camera off his belt and gave it to him. "_This_ is gonna help you?"

Donatello didn't answer him as he slipped the binding wrap off his bo.

"What are you _doing?_"

"Shh. Stay with Mike." He looped the material around the end of his bo, and tied the other side securely to the digital device. "Now if I just set this to record…hopefully the only thing I'll be risking is my gear."

If Raphael had nails, he would have bitten them off while he watched his purple-masked brother edge along the same path where _he'd_ been plastered by a shockwave, and Mike had taken a direct shrapnel hit.

Donatello stopped several inches short of the door frame, scraping his bo along the floor to get it through the opening. Nothing happened right away, but Raphael's breathing picked up while his brother hesitated, twisting his weapon in several directions to be sure that the camera was capturing several different views. The two minutes felt more like two _hours_ until Don withdrew his bo carefully.

"Are you done now?"

"I'm coming back."

"Did you get anything?"

"I don't know yet. I think we need to move Mike and return to Leo before I try to see the footage."

"_Can_ we move Mikey? Is that safe for him _or_ you?"

Donny gave him an evil eye. "_Slowly_. If we don't jar him, we can and _should_ move him. I don't like Leo being by himself in his condition."

"Me neither, but where are we going, Don? How do we know anywhere is safe?"

"We don't. All we can do is try and hope for the best at this point. I want you to take Mike's arms—"

"Given the fact that I'm stronger on my feet, I think _I_ ought to take his lower half, Don."

The purple-masked turtle nodded after a moment. "Okay. Just remember—"

"Slowly – I got it."

Donatello worked his way under Mike's armpits, and waited for Raphael to get into position on the other side. "All right, Raph. We'll lift on three."

"Would it be easier for me to go backwards?"

"Probably. We can get turned around once he's up." Don counted off for them, and Raphael winced at the purple-masked turtle's soft groan upon rising.

_There's no way he should be doing an_y_ of this._

They kept the journey to a painfully sluggish pace, but Raphael was more than willing to put up with it for both of his brothers' safety. Donatello didn't ask to rest until they'd gone about two dozen feet, and that was when Raph noticed the faint glow of another light.

"I left Mike's phone with Leo. The flashlight application doesn't shut down until you tell it to…it's all in the settings."

"That's a good feature, Donny."

"Let's go, Raph. It's not much farther."

The red-masked turtle's mind raced with apprehension when they caught up to an unconscious Leonardo. _Man, I hope Don can come up with something to get us out of here, because I don't know how to keep us from all getting killed. _

When they set down the orange-masked turtle, he stirred with another mumble.

"Mikey?" Raphael leaned over him at once.

"Raph?" he whispered.

"You okay, Bro?" He wasn't sure why he asked, but he couldn't help himself.

"Gettin' cold."

Raphael took off his jacket, arranging it over his brother while avoiding the worst of the deadly shrapnel. "You're gonna be all right, Mike."

Michelangelo's head sagged against the floor. "Yeah…"

Donatello was settled in between Leonardo and Michelangelo, now fiddling with the screen on his digital recorder.

"Do you see anything?" Raph asked.

"Yeah. Ceiling shots, floor shots, shots of walls and…" he trailed off and punched a button deliberately, then hit the display a couple of times.

"What do you see, Donny?"

"I see a door," he replied flatly.

"A way out?" Raphael's hope surged.

"Uh…well…" Donny cleared his throat. "It's wired up to the hilt, Raph, cables everywhere…I think the door is a trap in itself."

"Maybe you could dismantle it, Don."

"Raph, I doubt the explosives on that door are meant to keep _us_ in. Think about it. There could be an untold number of traps planted throughout the hallway, besides the one I set off intentionally. I think the door is wired to keep someone _out_."

"How the shell did some two-bit gang think of all this, Donny? How'd they _do_ any of it?"

"I can't answer that, Raph. The most I can suggest at the moment is that we start looking for another way out. Every explosion we hear in the background, every time the floor shakes, it means another support for the building is coming down."

"And we're dealing with booby-traps on top of it. Don, if I get my hands on these guys—"

"_Concentrate_, Raph. Mike and Leo need us. How are we getting them out? How will we transport them? That's what we need to be thinking about."

"You're the genius, Donny. Tell me you've got a couple of ideas."

His brother was quiet as he gazed at Leonardo. "I don't have more ideas yet. I would suggest that we begin looking for supplies to fashion something bigger to move Leo and Mikey. Unless you want to try something different…"

"I told you, I don't have a clue. I'm behind you, Bro, whatever you think."

"Then the first thing—" Don never got to finish his sentence, because an eruption overhead beat him to the punch.

In the blink of an eye the purple-masked turtle threw his arms over Leo and Mike like he could protect them, and Raphael very nearly joined him. Upon the following blast the red-masked turtle saw steel careening their direction, and instinct took over. With a bellow of rage he leaped to meet the end coming for them, and his legs buckled as the weight bore down on his chest.

He faintly heard Donatello screaming at him a second before something struck the back of his head, and everything disappeared from sight.


	21. Only One

"_Seeing Raph go down that way…it was like being hit in the gut with a sledgehammer. It wouldn't be easy to watch one of my brothers get crushed on a _good_ day, let alone the evening we were having. On top of the fear I experienced for him, the fact that I'd just lost the only source of strength and encouragement which remained was unfathomable. _

"_Raph had been looking to me for answers and ideas to help us escape, while I'd trusted his sheer determination and muscles to pull us through in spite of the odds. When he got hurt…that hope went out the window. I was left virtually alone, and incapable of saving anyone…even myself. _

"_It's impossible to express how hard it was to have my brothers within my grasp, and possess no solution for rescuing them. I'm used to preparing for all kinds of scenarios…but I don't think _anything_ could have prepared me to handle that."_

The purple-masked turtle's fingers left the keyboard. He rested his elbows on his desk and hesitated, waiting for the sick feeling in his stomach to lift. Even the months that had passed between the horrible night they'd been set up until now weren't enough to separate him from the trauma of the experience.

He sniffed as tears threatened and lowered his forehead to his hands. _I can't deal with this today._ Donatello raised his head and stared dully at the computer screen. Black letters became jumbled on the white background as tears blurred his vision. _I thought I was ready to go back there, and I'm not. _

He dropped a hand on the mouse and guided the cursor to save what he'd been working on, then shoved the keyboard away from his seat.

* * *

Donatello's heart thumped wildly in his chest as he choked on the cloud of dust the debris field raised. He started to scramble to his feet before he was certain the last of the rubble had fallen, too concerned for his red-masked brother to remain on the ground a moment longer. The sharp pain of his leg faded into the background while he stepped over obstacles to reach Raphael.

He found the red-masked turtle flat on the ground with what was left of a support column across his chest. He checked for a pulse before he did anything else, cursing the "turtle luck" that'd landed them in this mess. After verifying Raphael's life signs, Donatello gulped a deep breath and tested his hands against the steel, checking the direction in which the beam would naturally travel.

"Raph?"

His brother didn't answer him, which left Donny in the precarious position of not knowing how badly injured Raphael could be before attempting to move the column with a little help from gravity. Attacking it from one side at a time seemed like the best option without anything else to go on.

The purple-masked carefully braced his right shoulder against steel, pushing the beam until the opposite end struck the floor on the other side of his brother. He used both arms to get off the ground rapidly, and nearly collapsed when his injured leg struggled to cooperate. With a frustrated growl he caught the underside of the column that was raised in the air, and pushed it away with all of his might.

Steel flipped end over end, coming to rest in another puff of dust a couple of feet away from Raphael. Don's relief over the rubble being removed was short-lived; there was no time to relax. He gritted his teeth as he forced himself to kneel, and his hands immediately went to his brother's chest. He applied gentle pressure to check for injuries and sensed an unlevel area within seconds.

Don bent lower to make the most of his light and focused on the center of Raphael's plastron. It was difficult to be certain of damage in the shadows, but what he felt with his hands didn't lie. _His sternum is at _least _cracked, maybe fractured. Why am I even shocked?_

Chills raced through his entire body at the understanding that he was completely on his own, but now wasn't the time to be self-indulgent. Slowly he took stock of the older turtle, searching for more injuries that weren't immediately clear. Having already checked his plastron, he began lightly probing his brother's skull.

Donatello felt blood when he lifted Raphael's head, and found an open gash around the back. He shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his shirt. He wouldn't need all the material to bind the red-masked turtle's wound, but he had a feeling the rest of it would still come in handy. He sensed blood sliding down his own leg, and knew that his activity wasn't helping the injury.

He drew a knife from his belt along with only remaining packets of Quikclot. Raphael's wound would only require a little, and he would need to salvage more for his leg if he meant to keep going. _Go where? This felt impossible when Raph was right beside me. There's no way I can move all three of them on my own._

Donatello banished the thought, because it wasn't going to help him. While he addressed his brother's head injury, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind kept reminding him about Mike's phone. _I still have service. I can call the others, but what then? The only thing that would do is drag them into the death trap with us! God only knows if they'd make it ten steps into the building without being blown to pieces. That won't help us either._

Thinking wasn't working in his favor at the moment, so he focused on the small tasks he _could_ accomplish. He was in the middle of tightening the knot of his homemade bandage when the red-masked turtle stirred awake with excruciating cry. Raphael's chest shuddered while he attempted to draw another breath, and his face screwed up with pain.

"Raph, easy!" Donny ordered as fiercely as he could muster. "Don't strain for breath – it'll only hurt worse!" He cringed when Raphael's chest spasmed and leaned closer to his brother's face. "Listen. Listen to me, you can breathe, but you have to be careful. Keep it shallow, just like I told Mike."

It took several seconds for Raphael to control the panicked response to waking up under such conditions. Then he opened his eyes and squinted under Donny's headlamp. "Too bright, Don…" he murmured.

Donatello reached up to his light and turned the focus of the beam another direction. "Sorry about that, but it's good to hear your voice."

"Good?" he repeated, confused. "How's it good? What the _shell_…" He clenched his eyes shut with a long groan.

"There were a couple more explosions," Donatello explained. "And you had to be the hero."

"I…did?"

"Why do you think you're laid out?"

"Uh…" Raphael cursed quietly. "You think I can get up?"

"I can't recommend it."

"But…" The red-masked turtle shifted his arms, trying to rise on his elbows. The simple action made him gasp, and his upper body trembled.

_Probably looking at a bad fracture. Shell, he might even need surgery, but right now I'd settle for some dang pain killers…_

"Raph, don't try it. You only end up hurting more."

Raphael didn't say anything. His body went completely still for a few moments, and then he resumed taking careful breaths. Amber eyes stared off into space without focus, and Donatello had a sinking feeling that his brother could already be going into shock.

"Raph? Do you hear me?"

"That's it then," he muttered.

"What's it?"

"We're not gettin' out."

Donny held his breath. He wasn't sure how to respond, but any kind of encouragement felt like it would be a lie. Finally he closed a hand around his brother's wrist. "You're not alone, Raph, and you're not going to be. I'm right here with you."

Raphael's gaze roved, searching for him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this."

"Do what? Help the rest of us? You've got nothing to apologize for, Raph. You're a great big brother."

"Wish I was better…or known what to do."

"Don't talk like that. You couldn't be better if you _tried_."

This time his brother intentionally looked away from him. "Check on the others, would ya? I'm okay, as long as I'm just lying here, right?"

"You should be, but you have to promise me that you won't try moving again."

"I won't," he answered. "Leo and Mike close by?"

"Only a few feet away. Raph, I'm coming right back."

"You don't gotta worry about me, Genius."

"That sounds familiar," Don said lightly. "You didn't let me get away with saying it."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"'cause I said it is."

The purple-masked turtle felt like laughing and crying at the same time. "Of course. I'll be back in a minute."

Despite his assurance to Raphael, it _took_ almost a minute to get his bad leg to rise that time. He felt his brother's gaze the entire time, but did his best to ignore it.

Donatello hobbled the short distance to return to his other brothers, and settled down to the ground in between them. He gazed mutely at his orange-masked brother for a moment and then reached for his wrist to check the rhythm of his pulse.

_It's gotten weaker in just the last few minutes. There's a possibility his body will succumb to shock faster than his internal injuries would kill him. _Donatello wanted to kick himself for the negative thought, but he couldn't combat the condition his younger brother was suffering under.

"Mikey?"

He shook his shoulder gently, only to check if Michelangelo would respond. When he didn't stir, Donny sighed. _It's not supposed to be like this. This can't be the end. They're just a stupid _gang_! We've survived earthquakes, fires, floods, jungles, the Akiudo, ALIENS – only to be taken out by some rotten hoods? _His body shook with a sudden rage, but the anger was pointless. There was nowhere to aim the fury other than thin air.

He turned his head to look at Leonardo. _In a way, I'm glad Leo hasn't woken up. He won't have to deal with any of this. He can rest in…semi-peace until the inevitable occurs._ Donatello choked back a sob as he bent over his oldest brother's frame.

"Donny!" Raphael's call wasn't very loud, but the temporary stillness did nothing to hinder it.

"I'm coming!" Donatello took a minute to prepare himself for the battle of getting up, and dragged his unwilling limb underneath him once more.

His breath was heaving a bit more than before by the time he got to Raphael. "I'm here, Raph. Are you okay?"

"Don't sit down," his brother ordered.

"O…okay. Is there some—"

"Donatello, I got something to say, and you ain't gonna like it. But you also know I'm right."

"What is it?"

Raphael raised his head to see him better. "Don, we're stuck. _You're_ not."

Don's eye ridges rose. "You're saying—"

"I'm _saying, _just 'cause we can't escape don't mean you should die with us."

The purple-masked turtle opened his mouth, but couldn't form a single word.

"You can get out, Donny. If there's anyone who can make it, it's you."

He found his voice with a mighty tremor. "No. I-I'd never do it at this point. You were right about my leg – it's already giving out—"

"But you've got enough energy left to _try_, Don."

Donatello shook his head. "I don't know where to go! There are probably traps everywhere! Even if I was in perfect shape, I doubt I would make it out of the Gym alive."

"But you _won't_ know, unless you actually do it, Donny. If you stay, you'll die. If you go…you might make it. Think about our family…the kids! They don't have to lose all of us."

Donny hid his face behind his hands, not willing to let his brother see tears. "That's not _fair_, Raph."

"Ain't about being fair. It's not right for you to lie down and die with the rest of us. Not when you don't have to."

The weight of his brother's words made him feel a hundred pounds heavier, and he couldn't hold out from collapsing any longer.

Raphael cursed at him. "You keep doing that, and you won't be able to get back up! You _have_ to keep going, Donny!"

He didn't answer him. Donny fingered Mike's cell phone and pulled the device off his belt. As he did, he remembered the small bracelet again. He withdrew the beaded band and watched the different hues of purple stones sparkle under his light.

"Donny?" Raphael's voice interrupted his contemplation of Charlotte's bracelet. "What are you gonna do?"

"I can't leave you guys, Raph," he answered hoarsely.

"Do you have another idea up that shell of yours? I'd love to hear it if you do."

Donatello hesitated, dropping the bracelet back into the pocket of his belt. "Only one."


	22. Back Up

Luke rolled over in bed, blindly swatting around the side table to find his ringing cell phone. The glaring red numbers of the alarm clock informed him that it was 12:15, and the man instantly sat up on his side of the mattress. A phone call at this hour never indicated anything good, but the sight of Michelangelo's number on the screen made it questionable. The orange-masked turtle wasn't as careful with his phone as the others, and "accidents" had been known to happen.

Luke hit the button to answer. "Mike, is this really an emergency?"

"Doc, it's Donny."

Something in the turtle's tone made him immediately clutch the phone tighter. "What's wrong?"

The man was surprised when Donatello didn't answer him right away, then more concerned than before. "Donny, what's _wrong?_" he demanded stronger, climbing to his feet.

"Doc, we…we're trapped. The Gym was a set-up, shell, the whole thing might have been…"

"What do you mean, 'trapped'? Did you caught by someone? Where are you?"

"We're still inside the Gym, but we can't get out. Doc, the guys are hurt; they're hurt badly. I am too, but I can get around a little bit."

Luke's heart jumped into his throat while he clutched the phone to his ear and snatched up his personal version of Donatello's scanner. "You're telling me the others aren't mobile?"

"No, and I'm not in any condition to carry them either, even if I _could_ handle all three of them. Doc, things aren't good here. I don't know if…This is probably it."

"Don't you dare talk like that," the man said fiercely, then looked over his shoulder when he heard Katherine clear her throat from the other side of the bed.

"What's going on?" she asked softly.

"I'm trying to find out. Hold on." Luke returned to the phone. "Don, all I want you to do is keep calm, and stay exactly where you are. We'll be out there to help you, but I need more information. How are you trapped?"

The purple-masked sighed heavily. "It's the _building_, Doc. The Dagos knew we were coming; I'm certain they sent us here on purpose. The place is wired up with explosives and booby-traps."

It wasn't the explanation that Luke expected, and the words left him temporarily dumbfounded. "Are we looking at a timed event?" he forced himself to ask.

"I don't know…not from the evidence I've seen, but we're caught in the center of the structure. I've got no idea what's going on outside the Atrium, except for the occasional detonation."

Donatello responded so casually that Luke was once more nearly at a loss for words.

"Things have already been _detonated_?" he repeated the word with disbelief, and something instantly struck his shoulder. Luke whirled to see Katherine's wide eyes boring through him. "Go sound the alarm and get everybody up. _Everybody_."

The bronze-haired woman lunged out of bed and disappeared from their room.

"Yeah, Doc, the explosions have been contained for the most part. Their destruction is limited to small, but _deadly_ areas. I think we're dealing with at least two different types of devices. I'm fairly sure they've rigged up plastic explosives in the ceiling, and that they're being remotely detonated. The booby-traps could be an entirely different story, but I don't know enough about them to say for certain.

"What I _do_ know, is that the traps have been designed to cut off every possible escape, and to keep others out. I managed to get a good view down one of the hallways with my digital recorder. The exit door is covered in wires, Doc, and a couple of bricks that suggest plastic explosives. They have no intention of letting us leave."

"I couldn't care less about their _intention_, Don. Kat is waking up the team, and we're coming after you." Luke glanced down at the scanner in his hand, but he wasn't sure it would be wise to turn it on yet. "Can you tell me what kind of injuries we're looking at?"

Donatello exhaled again, sounding more tired than before. "There's a lot to deal with, Doc, but I'm questioning whether you'll even be able to _get _to us."

"Stop questioning it and let _us_ worry about the details!" Luke commanded. "I just want to be prepared for whatever red flags are going to pop up the second I turn my scanner on!" He switched his phone to speaker, and set the device down so he could start getting dressed.

"Leo has linear skull fracture and a broken leg, at the very least. Could be other internal injury. Mikey took bad shrapnel from one of the booby-traps before we even knew they existed. He has a…a rather sizeable chunk of steel buried in his plastron, in addition to smaller pieces. Raph just bore the brunt of a broken column that tried to fall on us. It feels like his sternum is fractured, and he's dealing with a head injury too."

Luke paused for a moment as he was pulling on his shirt, digesting the mountain of work that was ahead of them. "Who's conscious?"

"Leo never came around after the first detonation. Mike has been in and out a couple of times, but he's gotten more distant…and I believe he's going into shock. Raphael came back around and sounded pretty lucid, but now he can barely keep his eyes open."

"Don, you've got to make sure he stays awake."

"I'm trying! Doc, he wanted me to leave them behind, but I can't do it."

"How are you hurt, Donny?"

"My left leg is cut up pretty severely…the wound track runs probably seven inches, and it's _deep_. Mike used some Quikclot and wrapped it right after I got hurt, but I've been forced to use it a few times. I feel like it's bleeding harder again, so I'm going to have to wrap it a second time."

Luke swallowed as fear threatened his demeanor. "Do that _now_, Donny, don't wait! Can you put the phone on speaker maybe?" He heard fumbling on the other end of the phone, and then the sound of Donatello breathing harder. "You've got to take care of yourself in addition to your brothers, okay?"

"I can't do anything for them." Don's voice was so quiet that Luke had to strain to hear him.

"I'm sure you've already helped them," the man insisted. "And now you can help them by keeping yourself alive. Do you still have Quikclot left?"

"Fortunately Mike and Raph's injuries aren't heavy bleeders. But Mikey's definitely will be if he isn't handled correctly. I have a _really_ bad feeling about that shrapnel, Doc."

_So do I_, he admitted to himself, _but I'm not telling you that_.

Katherine dashed back into the bedroom. "Everyone is heading underground, and I woke up Reina. I'm going to throw on some clothes, and I really think we should start moving, Luke!"

Luke nodded in agreement. "I'll go grab Jonathan." He shifted his phone to the other ear while he picked up his scanner, and headed into the hallway. "Donny, everyone is starting to move on this end. I'm going to need more information from you, but for the moment I want you to focus on stopping the bleeding okay? That's the most important thing."

"I'm doing the best I can, Doc."

"Stay on the phone, all right? Don't hang up. I'm going to be moving pretty fast on this end, but I don't want you to go anywhere."

"Okay."

Reina met him with a frightened look in the living room. "Daddy, what's going on?"

"We have an emergency, honey, and your uncles need our help. I don't want you to get scared. We're all going underground, and you're going to have a slumber party with Olivia."

"Daddy, are the turtles okay?"

"They're hurt, Reina, but we're going to help them. Would you like to help _me_, and handle my scanner so that I can go get your brother?"

The eight-year-old cradled the scanner like a newborn infant and stood stock-still at the end of the hallway while he entered Jonathan's room. Luke wrapped the two-year-old up in the blanket he was sleeping with, and carried him against his shoulder with one arm.

When he made it back to the hallway, Katherine was already waiting with Reina. Luke could hardly believe that she'd gotten dressed so fast.

"Were you ever a firefighter?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Luke. Let's go!"

He followed in the woman's wake as she charged out the door, and winked at Reina. "Don't mess with Mommy when it's time to throw down."

"She has her gun, Daddy!"

"You've seen her carry that for work, Reina. This is no different."

The blond girl nodded slowly and kept pace beside him until they made it out into the hallway. A smiling auburn-haired woman descended on them almost at once, tugging Reina's hand.

"Nothing like a little excitement to liven up an evening!" Victoria exclaimed. "Why don't you come with me, Reina?" She glanced over at Luke. "I can take Jonathan for you. I'll get them settled downstairs."

Luke nodded gratefully, and released the little boy to her arms.

"Want me to take your scanner to the lab, Daddy?" Reina asked.

"You can leave it in the Great Room if you want, all right? Thanks for helping me, honey."

"You go ahead, Luke – Greg is holding the elevator. We'll take the next one down," Victoria told him.

"Thank you." Luke picked up speed and adjusted his cell phone. "Donny? Are you all right over there?"

"Yeah, sorta," the turtle answered. "Doc, I smell smoke. There's a fire _somewhere_, but I can't see it yet. I don't think we have much time."

"We're not going to waste any!" Luke assured him.

"You have no idea how dangerous this is." Donatello's volume increased. "I doubt there's a safe way to get inside, Doc. You guys may have to accept—"

"I'm not accepting _anything_ until we're out of options, Donny!" he snapped as he walked onto the elevator, and found Greg, Brandon, Sayuri, and Jazz all staring at him.

Donatello sniffed. "I want to call Jen, okay?"

"Are you going to tell her to accept this too?"

"I don't know what I'm going to tell her! I need to hear her voice, especially if time…."

_Time is running out_, Luke finished silently. "Don't you give up on us, Donny. We're _coming_. Try not to scare your wife too badly."

"I'll call back, all right?"

"You'd better." Luke didn't want to hang up with him, but he wasn't going to be able to explain anything sufficiently to the others while he was distracted by the turtle on the other end.

"What is going ON?" Greg almost shouted.

"They were set up," Luke said bluntly. "Donny says the entire Gym is a trap. I couldn't get very many details yet, except that they're all hurt in different ways, and there are explosives being detonated all over the building."

Dead silence met his proclamation, so he continued. "Some of their injuries are severe. Don believes time is running out, both for the building itself, and for them. He just told me he can smell smoke."

The mixture of emotions in his friends' faces ranged between anger, shock, and terror, speaking louder than any of their voices could have. Greg was the first one to break the spell and scramble for his cell phone.

"Are you calling Kelley?" Katherine asked.

"I've got to! Even if that building IS in a dead neighborhood, someone must have heard something by now! If it's on fire, crews will head that way for sure! We can't let the Gym get surrounded, or we'll never make it in there."

Luke took a sharp breath. "Any crew who tries to go near it will be endangering their lives more than they know! You have to warn him that it's booby-trapped, Greg! I don't know how much pull Kelley has with the NYPD—"

"FBI trumps NYPD," Greg replied. "Kelley _will_ make it happen."

Luke leaned against the elevator for extra support. "Donny didn't sound good on the phone. We have a lot to do, and we _all_ have to make it happen fast."


	23. Organize

Greg cursed under his breath as he re-dialed Matthew Kelley's cell phone for the third time. _Come on, Man. You've got to pick up the phone!_ The sandy-haired man successfully tuned out the madness going on in the Great Room by standing back near the elevator, and plugging one ear with his free hand. _Wake up, Kelley! I don't have time to come bust down your door!_

On what felt like the hundredth ring, his boss finally answered the phone with a groan. "Heffernan, this had _better_ be good!"

"If it was good, I wouldn't be waking you up, Sir! I need you to listen to me very carefully. If you don't do exactly what I tell you, not only the turtles, but several innocent first responders could be dead in a few minutes time!"

"What the—Heffernan, you can't just throw me into the deep end without any warning! What's going _on_?"

"The Dagos set the guys up! They went by the Gym to perform surveillance tonight, and got a much different welcome than they bargained for. The building is wired with several explosive devices, and it's being taken apart one detonation at a time! You have to make contact with NYPD and local emergency services, and get that entire six block radius cordoned off!"

"Wait a minute, _wait a minute!_ You expect me to insert my—"

"Begging your pardon, Director, but I don't even have time to debate the issue with you! Donny smells smoke, so at least part of the building is already on fire. If any rescue workers set foot in or around that building, there's a very good chance they'll get blown up! If anyone is on the scene already, you have to use your authority to pull them back!"

"Greg, what about the _turtles_?"

"You let us handle them. We're getting ready to book it out of here, which is the other reason I need to hang up the phone!"

"How are _you_ going to avoid being blown up, Heffernan?"

"We're working on it, Director! Please deal with this, and I'll never ask you for anything again!"

"Famous last words," he muttered. "Heffernan, if I cordon the area off, you won't be able to get through the police either! Unless…" Kelley sighed heavily. "I'll go down there myself. Once I know which barricade is closest to the Gym, I'll call you with the location."

"And you'll let us through the barricade?"

"Hence my reason for going down there! Now _I_ need to go, but I'll call you back as soon as I've sorted out some of this insanity!"

"Hurry!" Greg urged, but it sounded like his Director had already hung up the cell. He shoved his phone back into his jeans pocket and hurried to join the others. His mind was spinning so fast with the number of things that needed to happen that he felt dizzy.

"No one has the right to tell me where I can go!" Karina's voice rose above the others. "You said we needed all hands—"

"You're not setting foot near it!" Brandon interrupted. "If I had it my way, Kat wouldn't be going either!"

"You're definitely not getting your way," Katherine retorted. "But he's right about you, Karina. 'All hands' doesn't literally mean _all _hands, and you know it!"

"I'm not just your little sister anymore! I'm a grown woman, and my husband is in there!" Karina punctuated the end of the sentence with a tirade of Spanish which sounded anything but compliant.

Greg winced. _Now's not the time for a family breakdown. I'm surprised Jen isn't standing there fighting right along with Karina. Where is she? _He glanced around the room, but saw no sign of the raven-haired woman.

The scuffle of feet drew his attention to the hallway, and he found Jenna leaning heavily against the wall. She was talking quietly on her cell phone, but the man couldn't hear what she was saying over the commotion in the Great Room. While he watched she drew her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob, and he had to physically turn away. _I don't want to know what Donny's saying to her._

"Everybody, QUIET!" Tim thundered, shouldering his way past Brandon to the center of the room. "We have _no_ time for arguing! Three out of four of the turtles are completely down, so we're going to need several sets of hands inside to help. I don't doubt the courage of a single person in present company. I know _all _of you would go into that building if we allowed it, but that isn't going to happen.

"Greg, Brandon, Katherine, Sayuri, you're definitely in. The medical team is already focusing on their supplies, but we need to salvage our _own_ equipment. Heavier clothing, boots, tools – we need to get everything together quickly so we're ready to leave the minute the docs are!"

"Timothy-san," Kouhei spoke up gravely. "I wish to accompany you into the building too."

Tim wheeled around and gave the 23-year-old a hard look. "Are you sure about this?"

"Am I not a member of this family?" he asked quietly.

Tim nodded. "Okay. You're in Kouhei." He returned his attention to the group as a whole. "Now, in all likelihood our medical members are going to be strapped. Hisui, April, with the docs' consent, the two of you can come along to assist on the _outside_," he emphasized.

"Where does that leave _us_, Dad?" Calley's voice broke with the question.

Tim took a deep breath as he gazed at his daughter. "It leaves you here. I know it doesn't seem fair to be left behind…but there are several reasons I want you women to remain out of harm's way, and they're all upstairs in their bedrooms."

"What are Reina and Jonathan?" Karina challenged softly. "Chopped meat? What about Alexis? If being a parent is a disqualifying factor, then you're going to have to leave a couple more people at home!"

Timothy took a step toward the Latin woman and rested both hands on her shoulders. "This system isn't perfect, Karina, but these are the facts. Katherine and Brandon have trained their bodies for _years_ to be prepared for the situation we're thrusting ourselves into – that's why they're going. Period. I will _not_ argue the point with you."

Tim broke away from Karina to scan the rest of the room. "Where's Jazz?"

"I saw her go into the lab behind the docs," Rebecca volunteered. "She looked like she was already on a mission."

"Okay! We need to separate and start pulling things together! I'm going to check with Luke to find out how much time they need, and we'll reconvene here in the Great Room. Don't wait for someone to call you. Grab your gear, get dressed, and come back down here." Tim made eye contact with Greg. "You're with me. I need you in the lab."

The sandy-haired man didn't ask questions, but merely followed Timothy into the connecting room which was also buzzing with activity.

"Luke! Are you coming with us into the Gym?" Tim asked at once.

The blond-haired man glanced over his shoulder as he finished shoving a kit into a bag. "I'm going to have to! The injuries Raph and Mike are dealing with could be fatal if they aren't transported correctly. Marcus is coming too, but he'll be stationed outside. I'm leaving Caleb here to finish setting up things properly in the lab, but we're going to be extremely shorthanded."

"I asked April and Hisui to come along and assist in that case, if I'm not overstepping my bounds."

"Not at all, Tim! I can't be everywhere at once. If you can keep charge of the recovery team and let me focus on the injured, I'd appreciate it."

Tim nodded. "The question I have is whether we have enough Oxis to outfit our entire team. In the event of facing a fire, we're going to need them."

Luke winced. "The _guys_ are going to need them. They could be overcome by smoke inhalation long before the fire gets near them!"

"Try not to expect the absolute worst, Luke. We have to keep moving! Do we have enough Oxis for the turtles plus a team of seven?"

Luke nodded in return. "We always wanted enough on hand in case of an emergency. If you want to come with me for a minute…"

Greg's attention was drawn by the eerie bluish glow of a 3D model suddenly cast upon a table several feet to his right. Not surprisingly he saw Jazz next to it, fiddling with a remote in her hand. "What are you doing? Do you have information that can help us get into the building safely?"

The young woman shook her head. "I'm not sure. These are the bare bone schematics. We never got the current layout; that's why the boys went in there tonight! I aligned their coordinates with the blueprints to nail down their location, but this map can't tell me anything about the condition the building is in, or where their traps are placed." Jazz stared at the model silently, seemingly on the brink of tears. "I don't think I can help you."

"Yes you can," Greg corrected. "You see things in more technical terms than the rest of us. Separate yourself from what you're feeling, and _think_. What would Donny do if he was here?"

She rubbed her temples for a long moment, and met his gaze once more. "We have another disruptor. I'm _sure_ of it. Donny has to have a back-up around here! If the rescue team takes it with them, you can shut down the operating frequencies, and stop them from remote detonating any more of the bombs!"

"What about the booby-traps Don talked about? Could it shut them down too?"

She shook her head. "I can't tell you that. If they're being remotely detonated, they should be dead in the water, but there's a possibility the smaller explosives are individual units. That means once they're initially activated, it requires no intervention from the bad guys to set them off. If they're self-contained, then there's nothing the disruptor can do to stop them."

"You think I can handle a disruptor?"

"Oh, sure, Greg; Donny made them user-friendly so that even the other guys could use them. The machine does all the work for you. It locates the frequencies in use, locks on to their source, and then gives you the option to shut them down."

"But…if we activate the disruptor, we shut down communications too," Greg said blandly.

Jazz wagged a finger at him. "Not necessarily. There are a couple of radios missing, which means there's a chance that Donny still has access to one. He programmed a particular frequency on the low-end just for their use. As long as you don't shut that one down, you ought to be able to establish a link with him."

Greg smiled. "Now see, Jazz? And you thought you couldn't help us."

Timothy came over to join them, casting a glance between Greg and Jazz. "I see you're already at work. Tell me what you have so far."

"I'm going to find another disruptor to send with you, or actually I could just come—"

"No." Tim stopped her. "You've got a little girl upstairs, and your husband is already coming into the building. Greg can use the disruptor?"

Jazz nodded. "He can stop them from continuing to detonate plastic explosives, but the smaller booby traps may not be affected. You have to be prepared for that. If Donatello still has his radio, you can also maintain contact with him by using a lower frequency."

"Very good. In your technical opinion, do you have any ideas for the best way to approach the building?" Tim pressed.

Jazz lowered her head. "I don't know where to start, Tim. If they've really designed the entire building as one giant trap, I can't think of anywhere off the top of my head." She looked back at the model. "I want to help, but I'm not sure what to tell you."

"We're just going to have to take our chances," Tim said bluntly. "It's okay, Jazz. You've got nothing to go on except for the blueprints. We don't expect you to be an expert on the layout."

Jazz continued staring at the 3D imaging model. "The blueprints, plus the perimeter shots that Sayuri and Brandon took that day. I'll go back over the images again and see if anything jumps out at me. There's a chance that…" The woman trailed off and her grey eyes grew wide. "Hold the phone!"

Greg's eyebrows rose. "Why are we holding?"

Jazz typed a couple of digits into the remote, and the model transformed before their eyes. Instead of ghostly schematics, the physical exterior of the building appeared. "Donny put this together a couple of days ago, based on the photos Sayuri and Brandon brought back. There was one thing…"

The image of the building shifted before their eyes, until the west side came into view. With another tap of the remote, Jazz zoomed in on a particular spot and magnified it clearer than the rest of the picture. "There it is! You see?"

"I see…a brick wall?" Greg suggested.

"No, you see what used to be a _door_, lunk-head!" she exclaimed loudly. "And do you know where that door leads? To the basement! According to the photos they took, this was the only outside access point. Do you realize what that means?"

Both men looked at each other.

"That the basement has been blocked off?" Tim tried.

Jazz sighed in exasperation. "Think about it! Say I'm one of those Dago creeps. If the basement only has one exit point, and it's already closed, what would I do?"

Greg shrugged. "Ignore it?"

"Exactly!" she bellowed. "There's a very good chance the safest point to enter the building is through the one place they thought nobody could use!"

Greg smiled again as hope lit in his mind. "You think we could take that door out with a couple of _our_ charges?"

Jazz grinned. "We're finally on the same page."

"But here's the next question," Tim continued. "Do the schematics give you any hint of how we can access the Atrium from the basement? We can go _through_ the floor if we have to, but speed is of the essence."

"I'm going to dive back in, and hopefully I'll have an answer for you in a couple of minutes!"

"Fantastic," Tim told her. "That's a good girl, Jazz. Keep it up, and I'll check back with you." Tim motioned his head to Greg. "I want to see the status of the others, and you and I need to get dressed to go."

Greg nodded with an amazed smile. He wasn't surprised that Tim had fallen into this role as naturally as breathing, but it was still a unique perspective to see the man through. The moment the two of them entered the Great Room, they were accosted by a fourteen-year-old boy.

"Captain Long!" Shunshi called. "I want to go with you. I'm not a child anymore – even if most people choose to see me that way."

Tim shook his head. "That building is no place for you, Shun."

He nodded. "I understand. But my sister told me she is going along to help the doctors, and I'm only asking to do the same."

Timothy hesitated and then looked beyond Shunshi, to where Sayuri was standing rigidly in the background. "In this case, it's not really my call, Shunshi."

The Asian woman came up behind the teenager, tentatively resting an arm around his shoulder. "Not only those who go into the building will be at risk, Shunshi-kun. There is very real danger to those who are outside too."

"I'm not afraid, Sayuri-san. You are all risking your lives. I'm old enough to make my own choice…and I think I deserve this chance. Please do not deny me this honor."

Greg held his breath. In the entire time that he'd known the boy, he'd never heard Shunshi should sound so serious. Sayuri exchanged a look with him, as though asking _his_ permission to allow their son to go near the danger zone. The man cocked his head to one side, but couldn't force himself to say no.

Sayuri exhaled softly. "It is an honor you've earned, Shun. After all…you were the one who took responsibility for Donatello that night on Iriomote. You helped save his life then, and I will not bar from you traveling with us now."

Shunshi bowed his head instantly. "Thank you, Sayuri-san!"

"Go get dressed," she said softly.

After the boy departed, Sayuri came up alongside Tim and Greg. "It _is_ a matter of honor, but also of love for Shunshi. To deny him this chance when the rest of us are throwing caution to the wind is not something I can do. Shun is young, but he is _not_ a child."

Tim nodded. "It's your decision. Greg and I are going to get dressed, and then we can start loading up."

"That has already begun," Sayuri mentioned. "Dr. Sloan has April and Hisui taking supplies to his Avalanche."

"Good choice. Between Marc's car and my Crossover, we should have all the space we need."

Greg nodded. The excitement of having a possible way into the building was competing with the fear that they were going to be too late to do the turtles any good. There was absolutely no more time to waste.


	24. Protective

_It's weird, some of the things that stick with you. Peace and quiet have always been a pretty important component for helping me concentrate, but I haven't been able to sit through silence since that night. At least, not yet. That probably doesn't make much sense, because logic has nothing to do with it._

_I started to question whether we'd be able to escape right after the first bombing, but it wasn't until my brothers' voices fell away that I began to accept death as a reality. Some of the worst moments I remember from that night didn't come in the middle of chaos, but in the midst of the silence, when dread became a chokehold._

_The truth is, even if I'd possessed the strength to get away on my own, part of me didn't _want_ to make it if my brothers weren't going to live. That has to seem selfish, but the idea of living without them…I didn't even want to think about it. In that sense it was kind of a mercy that we were trapped together, and would die together._

_I don't know if the other guys would have felt the same way I did…and I'm not sure what I would have done if I'd _been_ physically up for the task. The decision I was forced to make was almost as heart-wrenching as choosing to leave my brothers behind. Knowingly putting several of our friends in danger wasn't an easy call to make, but in the end, it was one of two options I had left. I could ask for help, or we could all wait to die. Jen probably wouldn't have gotten over me choosing to say nothing, let alone the rest of our family._

Donny paused in front of the keyboard with a humorless snort. _Family. Sometimes I think we've treated the people we love more like wards that we have to protect, instead of true equals and allies. My brothers and I are all guilty of it. It's as if we collectively refuse to allow any of them to become "one" of us. They can come alongside of us and take part in our daily lives, but if they try to sacrifice something for our sake, they're sure to feel our wrath._

_It began with good intentions; we only want our people to be safe. It's a little like the way I tried to get Jenna to give up on me in our early years, and find another man she could have a real life with. Why or how she waited for me as long as she did, I'll never understand. _

_I sought to maintain control of the relationship by attempting to end things with Jen several times…and we try to control the rest of our family, by expecting them to hold back and not act if we don't want them to. Until now, I didn't see how unfair that was. I thought I was protecting them, but ultimately, it was a means to protect _myself_ from losing them. That's not how a family is supposed to act._

_All I can say is, I'm grateful that our allies are just as stubborn and determined with us as Jen has always been with me. _

* * *

Donatello tried to steady his breathing, but he couldn't find a normal rhythm. He didn't want Jenna to hear him growing more anxious, but he couldn't bring himself to hang up the phone yet. "How many of them are coming?"

"All the usuals; pretty much everyone except for Karina, Becky, Calley, and myself. And Jazz. I don't know why Tim didn't want her along, except maybe for Alexis."

Jenna's voice sounded thin. The turtle recognized that she was on the edge of overloading on emotions, and it was making it difficult to find the right thing to say. He was silent for nearly a minute before the woman spoke up again.

"Don? Are you there?"

"Yes."

"Please don't get quiet on me."

"I'm sorry, Jen. I'm not trying to upset you…I don't want to say the wrong thing, and it's making this harder."

"Donny, I'm _already_ upset. Do you believe anything you choose to keep to yourself is going to change that? Tell me what you're really thinking."

He released a shaky breath. "Did I do the right thing?"

"What do you mean? By calling Luke?"

"A lot of people we care about are racing toward _our_ death trap, Jen."

"Was it the right thing when you came after my Mom and I into the United Nations? Was it the right thing when you rescued Director Kelley and Brandon from Javits? What about when you flew to the Congo on a wild goose chase to hunt down Marc? If your actions in all those circumstances, plus many more, were the equivalent of doing the 'right thing', then yes. Letting us help you is the only thing you could have done. Or letting _them_ help you, I ought to say."

"Thank you for not fighting Tim on this, Jen."

"I was too busy talking to you. I have a feeling you planned it that way."

Donny rubbed stinging eyes. "Our kids need you. For all their sakes, I'm glad you girls are home."

"You just don't want me near the action. You never have."

"That's true too, but it hasn't stopped you before."

"If you don't come home, I'm giving you fair warning that I'll track down the Dagos myself."

"You're not going to do that, Jen."

"No? I'll take that precious Battleshell of yours and ram it straight into their headquarters, then set off every missile onboard."

"I never showed you how to operate the weapons system."

"Sucks to be you. _I_ read the manual!"

Don almost dropped the phone. "You…read my manual?"

"You're darn right I did! And if I'd seen the manual _before_ Hillsboro, Stolle would never have been a problem either, I'll tell you that much."

The purple-masked turtle pulled the phone away from his mouth while he cracked up.

"What is so funny?" she demanded. "You think I don't have the guts to use your missiles?"

"Coming from the woman who single-handedly turned the van into a battering ram once already? No, I believe you'd use them, Jen. I just realized that you're the only person in our family who's actually taken the time to read my manual. It's a nice feeling."

"You could have made it shorter."

"I was being thorough!"

"You had to know Raph would never read a 200 page guide to destruction. He likes to create his own path."

Donatello laughed once more, sinking against the concrete divider upon which he was leaning. "Then you're also one of the only people who know about the self destruct feature."

"Why did you include that anyway?"

Don shrugged to himself. "It was for one of those worst case scenarios that you try to prepare for, but don't ever want to end up being in."

"Like right now," she said, serious again.

"Yeah." He sighed. "No matter what happens, Jen—"

"I don't want to hear this."

"I know you don't, but you may regret it if you don't let me say this. Everything good we have, it's because of you. I was too hard-headed to accept your love willingly. If you hadn't kept at it—"

"Worn you down," she inserted.

"If things had gone _my_ way, we wouldn't have ended up together. Never would have had kids…it's all thanks to you, Jen. You're strong enough to give them what they need."

"I can't give our kids _half_ the things you can, Donny. I won't grant my permission for you to give up. You've got to hang in there until the others can reach you."

"I'm not going to give up, Jen."

"Then you're saving me the trouble of killing a whole bunch of Dagos."

"Jen…"

"I'm holding you to your word, Donny."

The purple-masked turtle inhaled sharply, and received a smoky reminder of the escalating danger. "As far as it depends on me, I'll hang on. But you have to promise not to take on those idiots either way."

"Can't do that, Don. The only way you can stop me from going after them is by bringing your shell home safely. Those are the terms I'll agree to."

* * *

Timothy took a moment to collect himself, and then pulled his Crossover up to the barricade which was blocking the street they needed. Despite his own car being a police cruiser, it didn't mean he could force his way through the officers. _Kelley had better be nearby_.

Tim unrolled his window as the first policeman approached the car.

The officer shone a flashlight toward him curiously. "Nothing's getting through this area. You gotta turn around, buddy."

"I'm not turning around, and neither is the blue Avalanche behind me. I need to see Director Kelley. Please call him over here," Tim answered shortly.

"Director Kelley?" The man repeated the name like he'd never heard it before.

"The Field Director of FBI operatives? He's the guy who enacted this barricade to begin with. Go get him – I have nothing else to say to you."

"Whose authority are you operating under?"

"That's none of your business, Officer. Life and death is hanging in the balance, so get me Director Kelley NOW!"

The stranger looked like he still might object, but a heavy hand on his shoulder prevented him from saying anything else.

"Lieutenant, it's all right," Kelley assured him. "Stand down and give us some space."

The officer appeared to be fuming while he backed away, but he disappeared from sight as Kelley leaned over the open window.

"Tell me you have a plan, Captain Long."

Tim nodded. "We do. We're also in a hurry, Director."

"I know, but I need to say that if all of you come back dead, I'm never going to forgive you."

"Understood, Sir." Tim snapped his fingers at Luke when he remembered something. "You have the other radio?"

The blond man handed over another unit with an earpiece.

"This is for you, Director." Tim held the device out to him. "You won't be able to reach us via cell phone. If anything changes here or you need to get a hold of us, use channel 3 on the radio."

Kelley took a step backwards. "I don't believe I'm doing this. You'd better have one heck of a plan."

"We know what we're doing, Director. Can you get us through please?"

Matthew Kelley nodded wearily, and raised his voice toward the uniformed men standing closest to them. "Step aside! Two vehicles are coming through!"

Timothy held his breath while the men exchanged words with Kelley, though he couldn't hear anything they were saying.

"On _my_ authority!" Kelley insisted. "Stand down or I'll have you removed from your posts!"

Luke huffed softly. "If we had the Battleshell we could get them to move."

"Have a little faith, Luke," Tim murmured.

He smirked as the roadblock was partially dismantled, enough for a single vehicle to get through at a time. Tim immediately took the opening, and glanced at his rearview mirror to confirm that the Avalanche made it through too.

"Okay." Tim breathed a little easier. "Where did Donny say the Battleshell is?"

Luke turned his head. "It's about two blocks away, right-hand side of the road in an alley."

"You have the extra keys?"

"I gave them to April."

Timothy glanced at the red-haired woman in his mirror. "We're not going to wait on you, all right? I'll drop you off in the alley, and you can catch up with us at the Gym."

"Got it, Tim," she replied evenly.

Luke pointed at a sign a few yards away. "That's the cross street coming up, Wonderly."

Tim pulled up short of the alley and allowed April the chance to get out. He took the opportunity to shoot Luke another glance. "Are you ready for this?"

"Does it matter? We can only do everything in our power to get to them, and pray that it's enough."

Timothy nodded solemnly. He took another look at Sayuri and Kouhei in the back of his Crossover, but it was difficult to read their state of mind in the darkness. _If anyone's _not _ready for this, we'll just have to help each other the best we can._

Tim cringed at the sight of black smoke billowing into the sky. Not even the lack of visible flames could make him feel encouraged. Driving toward the Gym was vaguely reminiscent of another night in Xenia, Ohio, when he'd been in charge of leading a different type of suicide mission.

_We have a lot more liabilities along on this trip. It can't be helped, but that doesn't mean I feel good about it. We can't afford to take several trips in and out of the building. We'll be lucky if we have time to make _one_._

Timothy drove around the same side of the Gym that Sayuri and Brandon had first photographed, and went straight into the alley. He flicked on his high beams and hit the brakes several feet away from the small descending staircase. With a blink of an eye he banished every emotion from his mind, and jumped out of the car.

"Luke, can you make sure everyone's suited up with helmets and Oxis? I'm going to confer with Greg again, and I'll be right back."

Tim only waited to hear Luke's affirmation, then jogged to meet Greg as he was exiting the driver's seat of the Avalanche. "Way to keep up with me on the road."

"I've done some defensive driving in my day."

"It comes in handy, huh? Did Jazz come back with an amount on the explosives?"

"She can only estimate how deep the brick penetrates, but she doesn't think it'll take more than a couple of charges to punch through. I'd rather start smaller than throw everything we've got at it and risk bringing down part of the basement."

"We should avoid that," Tim said dryly. "You're confident handling the explosives?"

Greg nodded. "They're not complicated to detonate. We need to do this part _before_ I shut down the frequencies so I can use the remote."

The sandy-haired man removed a case from the backend of the Avalanche, handling it with appropriate reverence. "I'll go get set up. Why don't you call Donny and let him know we're closing in?"

Tim pulled out his phone and dialed Michelangelo's number.

"Hello?" The purple-masked turtle sounded a bit rough.

"You holding up okay, Don?"

"The smoke is getting heavier. I haven't seen flames, but they can't be far behind."

"Stay calm. You can hold your breath for extended periods, can't you?"

"That doesn't help my brothers!" he declared angrily, then finished with a small choking fit.

"Don't do that, Donny! We're right outside, preparing to break through the old door frame. It won't be much longer before we can get to you."

"Tim, I don't think we ha—"

Whatever the turtle was trying to tell him was drowned out by an intense blast that rumbled through the phone. Timothy recoiled from the sound, but then pressed the cell harder to his ear.

"Donny! Come back to me! Say something! _Donatello!_"


	25. Inside

Katherine felt like an eternity passed before she could take a real breath; not until Timothy released a grateful sigh of his own. "_What's_ going on in there?"

Tim shook his head. "They detonated more than one section that time! I was afraid we'd lost him."

"Let's hurry up and shut the bastards down before they manage to finish them off!" she declared.

"I couldn't agree with you more, Kat! Greg, where _are_ we with the charges?"

The sandy-haired man darted up the stairs. "Jazz decided three would be enough! Charges are placed. We should move everyone back farther just to be safe."

As Kat backpedaled, she nearly ran over Luke. The man grabbed her by the hand to pull her behind the Avalanche where the others were huddling, and an unexpected smile came to her face. "This is nice. We should work together more often." He couldn't manage a grin in response, and it made the woman feel guilty for even half-joking. "We're going to get to them, Luke."

He nodded, squeezing her hand tighter. "Do you want me to check your Oxi?"

"I know how to use it, Hon, but if it'd make you feel better…"

"All right, everybody," Greg spoke up. "I'm detonating: in three, two…one."

Katherine braced herself for an impact, though she knew the charges had a limited range. Her stomach twisted in knots while they lingered on the ground after the explosion, left wondering if the "door" had been successfully reinvented. When she saw Greg and Tim edge around the left side of the Avalanche, the woman quickly gained her feet too.

She heard Luke breathing a little hard behind her, along with the unmistakable footsteps of her younger brother. Anticipation soared as they closed in on the staircase and the sound of Greg's laughter rang out.

"Not bad," her old partner declared. "That's _one_ way to make an entrance."

"No time to be corny, Heffernan!" Katherine shot back. "Rescue now, celebrate later!"

Timothy nodded. "She's right. Whatever process needs to be done with the disruptor, get it started so we can move in."

Greg held up the device. "I'm already locked on. I can have everything but the lowest frequency _we're_ using shut down in two seconds!"

"Then do it!" Luke barked. "Everyone else needs to get the rest of your gear on."

Katherine accepted her Oxi mask back from her husband, and twisted the ring on her helmet to turn on her head lamp. Luke held out another bag toward her, and she shrugged both arms through the straps.

"Is this all you need to me to carry?"

"The rest of the supplies are broken up over the others. No one has to be too weighed down that way."

"What about stretchers?"

"Everything can be assembled quickly on the spot. The poles are the most awkward thing to carry, and I stuck your brother with those. He's the one who likes sticks."

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Show some respect, Luke. What's the difference between Brandon's _Bahng Mahng Ee_ and Donny's bo?"

"His weapons are a lot harder to pronounce."

She groaned, but left the argument to be picked up at a more appropriate time. Kat joined the half circle that Tim, Sayuri, and Kouhei had created, and imagined she was shaking her remaining nerves out with a flick of her wrists. She looked back at the nervous faces of their "medics", and tried to be reassuring for their sakes. "I'd just like to remind all of you that I survived the United Nations, and my brother here survived Javits…so there's no reason this Gym will be any different."

"We'll be back in a few minutes," Tim said firmly. "Hold your positions here, unless safety dictates that you abandon the building."

Marcus snorted. "No offense, but I don't think anyone's 'abandoning' the goal of this mission. We'll stay put, and I've already got a radio on. Let us know when you reach the guys, and take care of yourselves in there."

"We'll be in contact," Tim returned. "Greg?"

"We're good," the sandy-haired man replied. "Full speed ahead. Try to refrain from jinxing us, Brandon."

Brandon took a couple of steps forward to meet him. "As if _I'm_ the biggest danger to this mission."

"I know you're not calling _me_ a liability. I was pretty darn helpful to the guys when it came to getting _you_ out of Javits."

"All right, all right," Tim inserted. "Let's have a little less buzz from the peanut gallery until we get our footing inside."

As the dark-haired man strode forward, Kat's light caught the outline of the rifle strapped to his back. _I didn't realize Tim was packing the _big_ gun. Guess I'm not the only one who believes in being prepared._

Timothy moved with purpose, leading the way down the steps and through the opening without another second's hesitation. Greg and Brandon followed him immediately, and Katherine motioned for Sayuri to go next with Kouhei. She knew she'd feel better about her having her own husband inside the danger zone if he was in arm's reach at all times.

Katherine had so much adrenaline coursing through her system that she was ready to run, but there was an annoying delay the moment the entire group finished descending the stairs into the basement. By the way their lights bobbed she could tell Tim and Greg were discussing something at the front, and instantly regretted choosing to bring up the rear.

"Do we know where we're going?" she asked loudly.

"I need to get my bearings, Kat!" Greg retorted. "Hold your horses for a minute!"

A few possible replies occurred to the woman, but she chose to keep her mouth shut. _For a few minutes anyway_, she thought inwardly. _If he starts taking us in circles, then I'm going to rip control away from him. _She was pleasantly surprised when the Greg started moving again not thirty-seconds later, and relieved to see Tim doubling back to talk to them.

"Greg can't use a normal scanner to help us track their location, so Jazz is walking us through this," the man explained. "I don't know what she did exactly, but she nailed the turtles' signal down in connection with the schematics."

"How are we going to _get_ to the turtles?" Sayuri asked.

"We can hopefully stick to the basement, up till the last hundred feet or so. The plans include a major cable installation, and a kind of trap door for ease of a technician's access."

Luke frowned. "That will be tricky to get a stretcher through."

"Not as tricky as possibly being blown up because we dared to use the regular hallways and doors, Luke. We don't _know_ that all their traps have been taken out."

The blond man relented with a sigh. "If that's all we've got to go on, then I suppose we'll _make_ it work."

* * *

The last of the detonations left Donatello much more shaken than he wanted to admit to himself. Since the arrival of the rescue team, his fear had _increased_, instead of diminishing. In spite of the activation of a new disruptor, he couldn't find real peace. _I should feel better about things, but knocking out their frequencies doesn't change the damage that's already been done to the building, and it won't put out any fires._

Donny bleakly gazed at the circle of his brothers. The smoke filtering through the rubble and filling up the Atrium was already irritating his air way, and he hated to think of the effect that it could have on the others. At the moment he was more worried for Michelangelo than anyone else, but he was well aware that all of their lives were hanging in the balance.

In the silence, he couldn't help questioning his decision again. _If our places were exchanged, and it was one of them who might have been able to escape, I wouldn't have wanted them to hesitate or stay behind just for me. What's done is done now. _

_The others are already here, putting themselves at great risk in order to get to _us_. We're lucky we have them. Our friends, our family has been there for us through so many things…and I'd be shocked if they _had_ agreed to let us fade quietly into the night. I knew this would happen when I called Doc, but there _was_ no other choice. Not if I want my brothers to have the chance to see another sunrise. Not if we want to the opportunity to raise our kids._

Raphael's hoarse coughing alerted Donatello, and the purple-masked turtle shifted on the ground. He didn't waste the energy to rise completely, trading off the chance to save his strength for the greater pain of being forced to drag his leg painfully behind him. One look at his brother's bare face had him feeling around on the floor, searching for the fabric "mask" he'd improvised to help shield them a little from the incoming smoke. _Wish I had some water to soak it with_, he lamented. _I wish I had a lot of things._

Donatello found the material under Raphael's shoulder, and lifted his brother's arm to retrieve it. _I wish he'd stop trying to move. Of all the times I've needed to drug someone, this has to be one of the worst._

"Raph? Can you hear me?"

The red-masked turtle grunted softly in response.

"You need to stay still. Do you understand? You might have sustained worse injuries than you think."

His eyes flickered, but never grew wider than a narrow slit. "Donny…? Why'd y' stay?"

Donatello replaced the fabric over his face, but gripped his arm so that his brother would be able to feet him. "Well…for one thing, I'm not in much condition to go very far. And who would you fight with if I'd left you here on your own?" he finished, intentionally light.

"That's not what I wanted," he murmured.

"I know it isn't. You're probably not going to like what I _did_ do either."

"Wha—y' mean?" his brother slurred.

"I called for help, Raph."

"Help?"

"That's right. I got on the phone, and I told Doc everything."

Raphael's breathing faltered. "But…it's too far."

Don wasn't entirely sure his brother knew what they were talking about, but decided to continue. "No, Raph. They're already here. They're coming to get us out."

"That's…crazy. They can't."

"They are," he insisted. "So all you've got to do is hang on a little while longer, and Doc will be here to rip you a new shell for being the hero."

A half chuckle escaped the red-masked turtle, and it ended in a gasp.

"Sorry, Raph," Donny said quietly. "I'll try to be more careful."

His brother sniffed. "What's the smell?"

Donatello carefully considered lying to him. "It's only smoke."

"Fire?"

"Yeah."

"Shoulda gone, Donny."

"_You_ wouldn't have."

"Mmhm."

"I know you better than that, Raph."

Raphael mumbled something else that was inaudible. When his eyes closed the rest of the way, Donatello shook his arm gently.

"Stay with me, okay? I'm not kidding. Help is really close by. Doc only gave me one job…well, two jobs. Keep myself alive, and try to make sure you were awake. I promise you can sleep later, Raph, but right now you've got to open your eyes."

"Too heavy," he grumbled.

"For you?" Donatello made a scoffing sound. "You once beat the stuffing out of six bikers _with_ a broken wrist. This can't be any harder than that."

Raphael's lip curled slightly. "Was a good night."

"Better than this one, but tonight is almost over." Don fully believed the words he told his brother. The evening was closing in on them, and it would either end in a successful rescue or a combination of asphyxiation and being crushed.

"Y'tired?"

Donatello couldn't believe his older brother sounded _sympathetic_. "Yeah, but like I said, it's almost over. Then I'll be able to leave you alone so you can rest."

"Yer a good brother…"

"So are you, Raph. If there was a chance…" A click sounded in Donny's ear, causing him to trail off without finishing. He reached for the radio pack on his belt and clicked the button to respond. "Go ahead."

"Don, we're extremely close," Tim's voice greeted him. "But we may have hit a…snag."

The purple-masked turtle shut his eyes briefly. "What kind of snag?"

"Jazz led us to the trap door from the schematics…and we've been fighting with it for the last five minutes or so. It won't even lift a couple of inches. There may be something blocking it."

Donny resisted the urge to take a deep breath. "Well, of _course_ there is."


	26. Perseverence

Viper jerked his arms through the sleeves of his jacket with a loud growl, and shot another glare at the paling "technicians" sitting on the couch. "You said the signal was reliable! The only reason I went this route was because you two assured me it could be done!"

"I'm trying to tell you," one pleaded, scooting to the edge of the couch. "The problem doesn't exist with our equipment. We're _well _within the accepted range—"

Overwhelmed by sudden wrath, Viper yanked the man off the sofa by the collar of his shirt. "If there's nothing wrong with your equipment, _why_ did we lose the signal?"

"We didn't!" the second insisted. "There's some kind of anomaly inhibiting the frequency!"

Viper threw the other man down on the couch and pointed his finger at the second. "You've got ten seconds to simplify that sentence!"

The man gulped for oxygen. "It's a type of interference. Something is _blocking_ the frequency from being transmitted. It's not a coincidence. It would require a special type of technology to pull that off!"

Viper's eyes narrowed and he turned his head to make eye contact with Shade. "How long ago did you get the call about the cars that went through the barricade?"

"Twenty minutes, maybe?" Shade ventured. "But our guys on the ground said one of them was definitely a police car."

Viper shook his head. "This has nothing to do with the cops, at least, not the real ones. They're with the Phantoms."

"Viper, if they're not with the police, how'd they get past them?"

"That's not the part you should be concerned with!" Viper's irritation exploded. "They come on the scene, and suddenly something's magically jamming our radio signal? Do you need to see the writing on the wall, Shade? Someone is helping them!"

"Sir, there are still a _lot _of live explosives in the Gym," the first technician said carefully.

"Not to mention the smoke our guys on the ground saw," Shade added. "That whole place will be an inferno."

Viper walked calmly to his second and held his gaze dangerously. "_Where_ are the men we assigned to the ground again?"

"They're…behind the barricade," Shade admitted.

"Which means there's no one to verify what's really happening at the Gym. I never should have agreed to take the lazy route. I should have overseen this myself from the beginning."

"Sir, we're working to find a solution to the problem—" the second wheedled.

"You can work from the car," Viper said coolly. "You're coming with us. Hurry up and pack your electronics, because I expect you to be at the front door in less than six minutes!"

The two men hopped to their feet, and Viper turned away from their mad rush to gather the tools they needed.

He caught Shade, and pulled his friend out of the room. "Go wake us up a crew, and make sure they're armed heavily. We are _leaving_ in less than ten minutes."

Shade spun around and dashed up the stairs without even responding to him. Viper fished for the key to the gun locker off his chain while he stalked down the hallway. _That's the last time I trust imbeciles to finish something for me. The old adage is true – you want something done right, do it yourself._

* * *

Donatello pawed through the contents of his damaged backpack, only half-listening to what Timothy was saying to him. He already knew what he needed to do, and nobody was going to talk him out of it. _Isn't there _anything_ that can help me? I picked the wrong night to travel light._

"Jazz is scanning the first floor, Donny!" Tim's voice cut through. "She's going to find us another opening."

"That's fine – you tell her to keep looking. In the meantime, I'm heading your direction to find out what the issue is."

"Don, Luke is insisting that you stay where you are," Timothy relayed.

"Please inform Doc that I'm on my way, and I'll meet all of you at the trap door."

"Donatello, you don't have to do this!"

"Neither did any of you! It's only a hundred feet, Tim. I have that much left in me."

"You could be in danger—"

"We're _all_ in danger, and we need to get out of here as soon as possible! Let me try this, and then if I fail, you're free to go for Plan B!"

There was silence on Tim's end for several seconds, then—"All of us are in agreement that we'd rather the four of you stay together."

"You can't stop me," Don said matter-of-factly.

The man sighed. "You know there could still be live traps."

"No one is more aware of that than I am, Tim! I'm getting ready to move, and then I want you to stay on the radio with me while I attempt this, all right?"

"I don't like it."

"I don't like that any of _you_ are here, and I won't allow you to lengthen your visit unnecessarily."

Donny felt around on the ground, selecting whatever small pieces of debris would fit within his palm. He stuffed them into his bag one-by-one, until his hand struck a paper sack. He withdrew the bag and stared at the remnants of his youngest brother's jawbreakers, now crushed to oblivion. The turtle gazed in the direction he needed to travel, and an idea came to him.

He mentally prepared himself for the pain, and used his bo to help him rise. Once he was on his feet Donatello stood still for a few moments, making certain he had enough strength to remain that way. He didn't care _how_ much the jaunt hurt. _Pain is temporary. I can push through it._

The purple-masked turtle tightly grasped his bo in one hand, and balled the candy bag in his other fist. "Okay, I'm up," he informed Tim. "I'm coming…"

"Keep talking to me so I know you're okay."

Donatello silently swore in his mind when he took his first steps. He wanted to scream, but he had a feeling that wouldn't help matters. He clenched his jaw shut instead, and worked his way slowly around the rubble rather than trying to step over anything. When he could see the bare floor again, he dropped a small handful of the colorful jawbreaker dust on the ground.

"I'm trying to leave you a trail," he mentioned to Tim. "That way, you'll know where it's safe to walk."

"You should only be focused with staying on your feet, Donny!"

"I've got this, Tim. I'm doing all right." The turtle took one deliberate step at a time, dropping more of the powder every couple of feet. _If __the_ smoke gets much worse in here, they probably won't be able to see it. I've got_ to hurry._

Donny hobbled forward unsteadily, leaning on his bo to help make up for the stability he felt was lacking. _It's not that far. There's no more time to lose. Help is only a few yards away – all I have to do is _get_ there._

"Hey, Donny? Jazz wants to cut in on you. She'd rather walk you through this herself."

"That's fine; I'll talk to her."

There was a short span of static over the line before he heard anything else.

"So you're being a stubborn shell-head, huh?" she demanded.

"You ought to know, Jazz. I seem to recall _you_ refusing to stay where I told you to at Indian Point."

"That's not the same thing."

"Jazz, I don't have energy to argue, all right? It's getting hard to breathe in here. Just…make sure I stay on track."

"You have about 22 yards to go," she admitted.

"Then I'd better get my shell moving."

"Don't use up all your strength at once," Jazz warned him. "You don't know what else you might need it for. Take it slow and steady."

Donatello was tempted to ignore her, but the rational voice inside his head agreed. What he normally could have sprinted in seconds was taking agonizing minutes to perform, but the sensation of new adrenaline flowing through his veins was enough encouragement for him to hold his head higher.

"You're eventually going to have to skirt closer to the wall."

The turtle winced, though he knew the instruction was coming. He dreaded going near to the piled up trash that was pushed against the side of the building, fearing it harbored the strongest potential for hidden danger.

Donny took a few careful steps in the direction of the west wall and reached for his backpack. He dropped Mike's candy bag back inside, and fished out a small chunk of concrete around the size of a baseball. The turtle drew back his hand and threw his missile as hard as he could. When nothing happened, he took a couple more steps to the right, and selected another stone from his bag. He cast it toward the wall, straight down the path he needed to take to get to the trap door.

When there was no interaction, he was emboldened to pick up a little more speed. Again he reached into his open backpack and closed his hand around another rock. The turtle cast the test chunk farther yet, and hardly had time to _see_ the flare-up before the concussion threw him backwards. He didn't have a chance to even take stock of is body before Jazz started yelling at him.

"_Donny!_ Donny, what was that? Hello!"

He sat up with a groan, shooting an evil look at his injured leg. "That…was one of the booby-traps. They're intact, in case you were wondering."

"Are you _all right_?"

"'Bout the same as before," he answered, but getting back to his feet was definitely a longer process.

"You shouldn't go any closer, Don. I can find another way."

"I have a method here, Jazz. It's not perfect, but it's kind of working. I don't have much farther, do I?"

"It's like…ten more yards."

"Piece of cake," he muttered.

His left leg shook with exertion when he forced it to bear some of his weight, and Donatello knew he would have to go slower still. With the end goal in sight, however, he wasn't about to let the woman tell him to quit.

Donny systematically let a couple more rocks fly, but wasn't able to set off any more traps based on the motion of the stones alone. _I hope that means there aren't more traps, and not that I'm getting worse at hitting them._ He was so fixated on marking a straight line that was safe to walk in, he didn't see the roadblock of destruction until right before he ran into it.

The purple-masked turtle stared at the debris field for a long moment, and a terrible feeling clenched his gut. "Jazz…where is this trap door?"

"Not fifteen feet in front of you, Donny. There may be something concealing it, some carpeting or—"

"Or half the ceiling?" he exaggerated, but that was what it felt like.

The woman cursed. "Don't tell me."

"Yeah. Pretty sure it's buried."

Jazz swore louder. "I'm sorry! Give me a little more time to come up with something, and get off your feet."

Donatello looked over his shoulder. "We're about out of time, Jazz. I'm gonna make this work."

"Don, that's crazy!"

"Jazz, I have to try, okay?"

He poked his bo through the rubble, testing whether it would shift. Donatello lifted one leg at a time, stepping into the midst of the debris. "You need to tell me when I'm close. Don't let me do more work than I need to."

"You shouldn't be doing any of it!"

"I'm the one who's here. I already came this far, when none of you thought I could! _Tell_ me what I have to do!"

"Just…keep walking, and I'll tell you when you're on top of it."

His steps felt more like a crawl as he struggled to climb over a larger obstacle in his path. Donatello traced his hands over the surface of a concrete divider, and hoisted himself on top of the rubble. His injured leg seized up on him, and sent the turtle to his knees on the opposite side.

Donny looked around for his bo, but couldn't see where it had fallen. He remained where he was for a couple of seconds, hoping for his strength to miraculously replenish.

"Donny?" Jazz called tentatively. "You've only got a couple of feet."

A steel support cut across the line he was traveling, and the turtle knew without a doubt that he was staring at the largest remaining hindrance to escaping with their lives. He licked dry lips as he willed himself to get up one more time. "I'm going for it, Jazz."

The purple-masked turtle stumbled twice before he could straighten out both legs. With halting steps he crossed the short distance that remained, and leaned heavily against the column. He pressed his shoulder against steel to check if it would roll, but the support didn't even shudder. _Oh, come on. One side at a time. I can do this._

Donny bent his knees, grunting to overcome the pain that wanted _him_ to fold. He took a couple of deep breaths and locked his arms for the difficult lift. He wasn't sure if the beam was more stuck than the one that'd fallen across Raphael or if _he_ was simply weaker. He cried with exertion as he struggled to get one end off the floor.

Steel was airborne for all of three seconds before a _new_ fiery pain lit through the front of his right shoulder, and radiated down the side of his arm. The column crashed to the floor a few inches to the left, and he nearly fell on top of it.

His chest heaved and tears stung his eyes while he hunched over the rubble. A dozen different curses ran through his mind, but he couldn't force his mouth to utter any of them.

"Donny?"

"Don't," he ordered through gritted teeth. "Oh, God, just _don't_."

"Don, you've got to talk to me!"

"Stop," he ordered weakly. "Leave me alone for a minute."

Donny rested his forehead against the column with the sensation that he'd reached the end of the road. He didn't feel like he had enough power to force his legs to continue supporting him. Shame mingled with the tears that ran down his face as he relinquished to the gravity pulling him toward the earth.

He sensed a flash of light against his closed eyelids and held his breath, expecting an accompanying explosion. When silence persisted he blinked rapidly, but couldn't make out his surroundings in the haze. For an instant he thought it was more smoke, but the cloud reflected too much brilliance. Something clicked in his mind and he remembered _where_ he'd seen a similar phenomenon. _Searching for Leo after the battle on Zuhur…the winged creature…_

The recollection filled him with a sense of the same peace he'd experienced that night, even before they'd located the blue-masked turtle. When he blinked again he was consumed by normal darkness, and the smoke that was burning his lungs. But the urge to surrender had faltered; replaced with a resolve he didn't know still existed.

The turtle clutched his injured arm to his plastron, and tested his left hand against the column again. To his surprise it moved slightly, indicating it could possibly roll with more encouragement. He braced his side against steel, not trusting his remaining good shoulder with the task, and pushed against the support with all the strength he had left.

Donatello stopped and started three times, repetitively ramming his left side and then his shell against the column until it finally overturned and rolled a couple of feet. Panting, he turned around to gaze at the debris that remained and shook his head. "We're _not _going to die here!"

He reached for the first object in his way, casting aside a piece of concrete with his good arm. Donatello didn't think and tried not to _feel_ anything as he dug through the destructive remnants to find the trap door. A mad burst of energy fueled him for a couple of minutes straight, and desperation to survive flooded every single muscle in his body.

He had to slow down as dizziness crashed over his skull. When Don realized he couldn't fight with the vertigo he lowered himself to the ground, but kept shifting, pushing, throwing whatever was light enough and within his reach to effect. A reverberating _bang_ startled him suddenly; mostly because he felt the motion travel up through his legs.

Donatello looked down and understanding dawned on him. He struggled backwards, and twisted his body away from the hard surface he'd been kneeling on. _That_ was when he saw the panel inch slightly off of the floor.


	27. Support

Sayuri's hands shook with anticipation while she braced them on the sides of trap door, and allowed the men to boost her up from underneath. Her head turned to take in the scene of devastation that awaited them, but she could only make out the immediate surroundings.

"Donatello-san?" The Asian woman climbed to her feet and turned in a tight circle, searching for the purple-masked turtle.

A soft grunt alerted her to his position from within the debris. As she moved his direction, she heard another voice ring out behind her.

"Donny!"

Sayuri glanced back mid-stride. "Doctor Barrows, he is over here!"

The blond man caught up with her in a split second, and she fell back a step to let Luke get to the turtle first.

"Don?" Luke crouched over him anxiously, immediately reaching for his bag. "You still with me?"

Donatello's eyes followed the motion of the doctor's light, and then roved to fix on Sayuri. "Yeah."

"Hold on just a second and I'll get you hooked up with the Oxi." Luke rested a hand under his neck to raise the turtle's head, and slipped the oxygen mask over his face. "I'm going to ask you a couple of questions, but I don't want you to try talking yet. Focus on breathing, and give me a simple headshake for yes or no. Think you can do that?"

Don nodded.

"Have you spent any time unconscious tonight?"

The turtle shook his head and his left arm grappled with the floor while he tried to rise.

"You're not going anywhere yet," Luke said sternly. "You shouldn't have even attempted to dig out that door. I want you to rest and take the time to finish answering my questions."

"No _time_, Doc," he rasped. "Smoke is building…"

"He's right, Luke," Tim said, coming up behind them. "We don't have time to do things the correct way. We have to get to the others or risk losing them entirely."

Luke shook his head. "Donny's in no condition to do any more walking. It's going to take two of us to get him out of here."

"No," Don persisted. "Go after the others."

"We are not leaving you here, Donatello-san," Sayuri said firmly.

"Help me up," he requested. "But don't touch my right shoulder."

Luke grimaced. "Did you just hurt yourself worse?"

"You're _in_, aren't you? That was the point."

The blond man took a sharp breath when he laid eyes on the turtle's injured leg. Sayuri could see that it had been wrapped a couple of times, but the material bore evidence of bleeding through.

"There is no way I should be letting you walk on that thing," Luke declared.

"Doc, how many of you are there?" Don asked.

Luke exchanged a glance with Tim and Sayuri. "Seven of us came into the building."

"Then you can't afford to spare _two_," Donatello insisted. "You need at least that many for each of my brothers."

"Should be more than _that_," Luke muttered. "The stretchers are designed to be carried by four, but we don't have that much manpower."

"Did you bring any drugs?"

"Of course I did. I was just about to give you a shot of noraphim to help ward off shock."

"Then you don't have the adrenaline? You know I keep it stocked in the field kits."

The doctor's face grew severe. "That's insane, and you know it."

"If you give me noraphim now, it'll only make me more tired. I need _energy_, Doc. Tell me you brought the adrenaline!"

Sayuri cocked her head. "Is he speaking of the drug that Raphael gave to Leonardo—"

"Back at the Akiudo's headquarters on Yonaguni, yes," Luke said impatiently. "You know I hate that formula, Donny."

"It's a necessary evil! Do you have it?"

Tim snagged Luke by the arm. "_Did_ you bring it?"

The blond man scowled at the turtle. "I can't stand you sometimes. This is a terrible idea."

"I agree with you, but we need a short-term solution," Don said quietly. "Please just do it."

Luke reached into his bag for a small case, grumbling under his breath while he selected the epi-pen he needed. He searched Donatello's arm for a moment and injected the homemade formula into a vein.

Sayuri was alarmed by the turtle's instantaneous reaction, and found herself holding her breath while he gasped to catch his. She gave Luke a worried look, but the man didn't seem fazed. The doctor only waited long enough for Donatello's heaving chest to settle, and then offered a hand to help him sit up.

"How you feeling?" Luke asked.

"Okay…heart rate…is under control. Muscles are tingling…but that's normal."

"Let's get you on your feet, and then see what happens," Luke suggested. "Tim, grab his left arm. Donny, I'm going to come behind you and grab the edge of your shell. Brandon, c'mere! We could use your hands for this too."

Sayuri stepped back while the three men assisted the turtle in rising. She was amazed when Donny maintained balance after they took their hands away.

Luke hovered close by Donatello, arms outstretched protectively. "Let's see how you handle walking. Want to try a couple of steps?"

Donny visibly struggled to lift his left leg the first time, but once he'd forced the limb to cooperate, he was able to walk the remaining distance back to trap door without assistance. "I think I'll be all right, Doc. The rest of you need to move on to my brothers!"

Brandon crossed his arms. "'Think' doesn't cut it, Donny. We didn't come this far to let you try walking out of here by yourself."

Sayuri looked back at Kouhei. With all her heart she wanted to urge the young man to help Donatello out of the building to remove him from danger faster, but she recognized that Kouhei's young strength would be put to better use helping with the stretchers. _They are going to need all the men for this project._

"I will go with him," the Asian woman spoke up. "I will make certain Donatello-san gets out."

Greg came up on her right side. "Are you sure…" The man didn't finish, but Sayuri knew he was concerned about letting her go alone with the turtle.

"We can do this, _together_," she emphasized. "He is right. The rest of you are needed to help with the other turtles." Sayuri held Donny's brown-eyed gaze for several seconds. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

He nodded. "More than ready."

"Then we should not linger."

Brandon was the first one to move. "I'll go back under to help Don get into the basement, if you guys will take him from above."

The purple-masked turtle flinched when Greg got too close to his injured shoulder. "Please don't touch it."

"I know, Donny," Greg assured him.

Sayuri dropped through the open panel to the basement floor, and took a position beside Brandon to back him up. The other men combined their efforts to carefully lower Donny down, and Brandon supported his trouble side, while she stretched to reach his left arm.

"I'm good," Don told them, though he'd certainly _sounded_ better.

"So am I," Sayuri told Brandon. "Go ahead. I will see him from here."

"Sayuri!" Greg reached a hand through the trap door, and she stood on her tip-toes to meet him. "Hurry and get out, okay?"

She squeezed his fingers reassuringly. "You will meet me in a few minutes."

"Yes," he answered, forcing determination into his voice.

Sayuri had a harder time letting go of his hand than she expected to, but one glance at the turtle confirmed she was doing the right thing. "Goodbye," she called. "Do not worry for us."

Brandon tapped Donatello's shell. "We're coming back with your brothers."

"You'd better." The turtle looked down briefly. "Thank you."

The bronze-haired man shook his head. "You guys are crazy, y'know that?" He threw an arm around the turtle's back, and then turned to hoist himself through the opening.

Donatello hesitated where he was, and the way he exhaled gave Sayuri more reason for concern.

"Are you all right, Donatello-san?"

"For the moment. I'm savoring the oxygen."

"I would love to give you opportunity to rest longer, but I fear if we linger here, the journey will be more difficult for you."

The turtle shook his head. "No, we shouldn't wait."

Sayuri pulled his left arm tentatively. "I think that you should lean on me. I can take more of the pressure off your leg."

"It'll slow us down."

"It may be the difference between you making it or collapsing," she said bluntly. "I _am_ strong enough to be of some assistance."

"I'm sorry, Sayuri. I know you're not a weakling. It's just the stubborn shell-head inside me that doesn't want to be anyone else's burden."

"That stubbornness served you well earlier, but I am _here_ to help you." Sayuri smiled, hoping to make him feel more at ease.

"All right." He hooked his left arm over her neck. "Then you're stuck with me."

"That is not such a bad thing. Are you ready to start moving?"

"Yeah."

The Asian woman kept half an eye on him while they began walking through the basement together, heading for the safety of the alley. She kept their pace at a slow shuffle, constantly on edge. Now that she was truly alone with Donatello, the danger of him collapsing had become much more real.

She could see pain in his face, but she also read a fear that seemed out of place in the warrior's eyes. _He's anxious for his brothers, of course. His courage has not been lacking once this evening, but his mind must be consumed with worry for them._

Sayuri cleared her throat. "Do you know what I was thinking about on the way over here tonight?"

Don turned his head toward her. "Were you praying to survive the drive?"

"Maybe if Doctor Barrows had been behind the wheel," she offered. "No. I was remembering the first time I met you at HijutoChem."

He snorted. "_That_ was a special night."

"Not completely unlike this one. I was set up by my enemies too. The difference is that you came to my aid, without knowing a single thing about me."

"Untrue. We shared a common enemy in the Akiudo, and a common ally in Greg."

It was her turn to laugh. "And I dragged Greg-chan into a trap along with me."

"Nobody's perfect, Sayuri."

"You and Leonardo-san sacrificed yourselves to the Akiudo to save us."

"Everything worked out though, didn't it?"

Sayuri smiled again. "Because you and your brothers are the bravest living things I have ever known."

"You were right there with us on Yonaguni, Sayuri. Shell, you tried to take on the Akiudo by _yourself_."

"That was more fool-hardy than bravery, Donatello-san." She was grateful to see some of the lines recede from his face.

"You came in here after _us_, so there's no point in arguing your bravery, Woman."

Sayuri looked ahead once more, and attempted to calculate how much farther they had to travel. Donatello had started out by only allowing her carry a small amount of his weight, but the pressure of his frame was increasing. _That can only mean he is feeling weaker._

Silence persisted between the two of them, and it allowed Sayuri to hear minute changes in his breathing. She gave the turtle a longer look.

"Do you need to stop, Donatello-san?"

"We _need_ to get out."

The woman pulled up short and Donatello hunched over part-way. "We're going to make it, my friend."

He nodded and took another deep breath. "Can we keep moving? It's better not to lose momentum."

She took his arm and pulled it over her neck again. "Trust me with more of your weight."

"I'm trying to."

Their careful progress resumed, and Sayuri remained quiet. Whereas she wanted to help alleviate some of the stress from his mind before, now she was convinced that Donatello needed to _save_ his breath in order to continue.

She was watching for the faint natural light that would signal how close they were to the alley. In her entire life, Sayuri had never wished that she was stronger. _If I could only carry him myself..._The sound of footsteps coming rapidly toward her startled the woman out of thought.

Sayuri stopped uncertainly. "Hello?"

"It's us, Sayuri!" Marcus returned. "Tim told us you were coming – we figured you'd need help navigating the stairs."

Donatello hunched over a second time and held out his good arm to the approaching doctor. "You figured right, Marc. Your timing is impeccable."

The dark-haired man gently wrapped an arm around the turtle's other side. "Turtle luck does work out occasionally."


	28. Patients

For all the paranoia Luke was experiencing inwardly, he was surprised by how calm he was able to remain. _Never mind that I used a risky drug on Donatello, which means I can't apply the _correct_ one without possibly causing a nasty interaction. Forget about the rest of the turtles in even worse condition…we still have to worry about the chance of running into traps or flare ups. I'd question if things could get worse, but that would probably qualify as tempting the fates._

He was only a couple of paces behind Tim, who was currently leading the way. Katherine was close enough to his side that could reach out and touch her, and that was just what he did on a sudden impulse. The woman squeezed his hand firmly in return.

"You all right?" she asked.

"I'm not sure _why_, but yes." Luke looked over his shoulder at the determined expressions of the men jogging behind them and a kind of understanding dawned on him. "Being together must have a…calming effect."

Kat nodded. "It always helps to have a good team at your back. You're doing particularly well for a newbie."

Luke's eyebrows rose. "Newbie, nothing. You like to block out the entire experience in Dayton, huh?"

The woman made a scoffing sound. "Wouldn't _you?_"

"There was the Congo too. I'm pretty well-versed on chasing after the heroes."

She clenched his hand tighter. "You have a good record for making sure they _live_ too."

He took a deep breath. "I'm counting on that continuing through tonight."

Kat drew his face toward her. "You do realize you're only one man, don't you?"

"I realize it's not all on _my_ shoulders," he corrected. _Even if it feels like it should be._

He had to pull up short when Tim stopped in front of them. The dark-haired man focused his light on the ground, searching.

"Did we lose Donny's trail?" Luke wondered.

"It's just a little hard to differentiate from all the other dust flying around," Tim muttered. "The colors _are muted_, but they're there. I have to really look for them."

Luke crouched closer to the ground, sweeping his light to find some sign of the crushed candy Donatello had left behind. He was secretly proud of the purple-masked turtle's drive, though he would rather Donny had followed his instructions to begin with. He brushed a gloved hand through the dust, inspecting it for the colored flecks.

A tremendous roar made the man jolt and cast himself backwards. He plowed directly into someone else, but was too transfixed by the sight of an impressive fireball exploding across the room to apologize. He cringed with each successive flash and reverberation, despite the distance they had with the obliteration.

In the immediate silence that followed the massive eruption, Luke realized that their entire team was huddled on the floor together. The blond man fought to breathe normally as he got to his feet along with the others.

"What do you think _that_ was?" Brandon's tone was understandably tense.

Tim exchanged a glance with Greg. "My guess? Whatever fire is already burning caught up with some of the live traps and created a chain reaction."

Greg nodded. "Judging by how quickly it all went off, I'd say the same thing. I wouldn't want to have seen that from any closer."

"But the fire _is_ coming this direction, is it not?" Kouhei ventured.

Tim nodded. "We have to hurry. Donny did a good thing leaving a trail, but we don't have time to track it. We know that the rest of the turtles are together, and they'll be surrounded by debris. I don't want to split up entirely, but I think we should spread out a bit and pick up the pace. Agreed?"

Luke nodded, and looked to see if everyone else in the small semi-circle was on the same page.

"Luke, stay with Kat, okay? Kouhei, come with me. Greg, you and Brandon can stick together. We're not to _separate_, understand? Don't let anyone's light get out of your line of vision, and stay toward the center of the structure. Donny was fairly certain the traps are limited to the perimeter of the room."

_Let's hope so_, Luke told himself as he and Katherine veered off to the right. There were several damaged zones to explore, and taking different areas to search seemed like a good idea on the surface. _As long as we don't actually lose each other. _

The quiet that consumed the Atrium felt deceptive; Luke had the sensation that they were experiencing the calm before the storm. The man's gaze was continually drawn to the opposite end of the large room, watching for the appearance of the same flames that had triggered the Dago's traps. After the tenth time his paranoia distracted him, he felt like kicking himself. _I'm supposed to be looking for the _guys_._

His hopes soared as he and Katherine approached a pile of twisted metal and concrete, but a quick trip around the rubble revealed nothing recognizable. _If something else came down on top of them…God forbid, it'll be a lot harder to find them. _Luke was grateful for the disruptor's ability to cancel the frequencies that were hell-bent on killing the turtles, but the same device made it impossible to use his scanner. _I could track them so much quicker with the use of Donny's technology. Everything is a trade-off at the moment._

"TIM! LUKE!" Brandon's voice shattered the air, coming from somewhere to the left of where the blond man was with Katherine. "We've got them! Over here!"

Luke spun around so rapidly it made him slightly dizzy, and saw the beam of a flashlight waving frantically. He put on a burst of speed that had Katherine rushing to catch up. Every obstacle in his way felt like a small hindrance as he leaped over rubble without caring where he landed. He felt Kat's grip on his wrist, and guessed the woman was holding her tongue from telling him to be careful.

Luke came up on Raphael first, and didn't hesitate from dropping beside him. The red-masked turtle's eyes were closed, but the man could see his chest rising. "Get Oxis on Leo and Mike!" he barked to the others.

After drawing a mask over Raphael, Luke carefully probed his plastron to confirm what Donny had already told him. He winced at the uneven surface he felt underneath. _Please don't let there be a ton of internal damage. Give the poor guy a break, _he silently pleaded.

Luke pulled off his backpack and reached into his kit for the second time that night. He selected a pre-loaded epi-pen of noraphim and gave the turtle a shot in the arm. When Raphael didn't flinch, he knew that his friend had to be pretty far under. _Maybe that's better for now. _The man wanted to spend more time with him, but he needed to give the other turtles attention too.

"Kat, come with me," he said, intentionally heading for the flash of blue. Luke nodded gratefully when he saw Tim already kneeling by Leonardo's feet.

"I could start splinting this, if you trust me with it," Tim offered.

"Go ahead," Luke replied. "I'll check on you in a minute."

He kneeled down by Leo's head, gently touching his skull to locate the fracture. Luke found the small crack around the left side of what _would_ have been his scalp, and then motioned to Katherine.

"Kat, Leo is _your_ baby until we get home, all right? The steps I'm going to give you should be very familiar, but they're also incredibly important."

"Ice and heat?" she asked knowingly.

"You got it. I have two different kinds of packs for you, and they're color coded – red for hot, blue for cold. They're ready to go the second you break them open. Set the timer on your watch, and switch them on fifteen minute intervals. I brought enough packs that you shouldn't run out. Make sure they stay on his head, but keep them as clean as possible too."

"I won't let you down," she told him.

Leonardo's breathing deepened suddenly and his head twitched in Luke's hands.

"Leo? Don't try to move yet, okay?" the man instructed.

The turtle winced, but his eye-lids didn't flicker. "I forgot to give you the list."

Luke cocked his head. "Leo, do you know where you are right now?"

"Remind me to give it to you," he mumbled.

Luke figured it would be easier to play along. "I'll do that. I'm about to give you a shot, so you'll feel a small sting."

"Why does my head hurt?"

"We can talk about that later, after you give me the list."

Leonardo sighed weakly and relaxed in his grasp. "Okay."

Luke carefully gave him an injection, and took another minute to check the gouge wound that Donatello had mentioned on Leo's side. The makeshift bandage was dirty, but the injury didn't appear to have bled through the wrap. _I don't want to fuss with that yet unless it starts bleeding again. _"Kat, keep an eye on his side too, okay? Let me know immediately if you see blood seeping."

"I will."

With heaviness in the pit of his stomach, Luke stepped over to see the orange-masked turtle. Donny had prepared him for the shrapnel, but it didn't make it easier to examine the injuries in person. He had to take a couple of breaths to steady his nerves before moving forward with first aid.

Luke sensed that he had an audience, and glanced up to find Brandon standing over his shoulder. The man looked shaky enough to concern him. "Bran, sit down, okay?"

"I know you said we'd tie them down to the stretchers, but that…that looks bad, Doc," he said softly.

"It's not the first time I've seen shrapnel," Luke reassured him, even though he was fighting with anxiety of his own. He reached into his bag again and came out with a plastic wrapped circular dressing. "This is called a doughnut bandage. When you apply it correctly, it creates pressure on the area surrounding the wound, without adding stress to the shrapnel itself. It should enable us to move him without causing further damage."

Brandon exhaled and squared his shoulders. "Greg and I can build the stretchers. I already have the poles separated out."

"Do that," Luke told him. "You could probably get Kouhei to help you. Then we'll have two of us stationed on each of them, until we get back to the trap door. _That's_ going to require all of us working on one at a time to get them through safely."

The bronze-haired man nodded. "We'll get started, Luke."

* * *

Matthew Kelley was feeling impatient. He'd been pressed up against the side of his sedan overseeing the police barricade for several minutes, and he couldn't help wishing he was closer to whatever was going on inside the old Gym. _That's crazy talk, _he thought. _Only a fool would wish to be in that kind of danger…or someone who has friends to lose._

The man shook his head. _Never thought I'd be thinking of them as friends, what with all the trouble that lot has caused me. Forever having to lie in order to cover their butts, so they can keep taking the law in their own hands._ Bitterness weighed down his shoulders, but the larger part of him didn't want anything to happen to turtles _or_ their human counterparts.

_I don't know how I let myself get roped in this far. Something about wanting to be "in the loop", _he reminded himself with a snort. _I suppose tonight proves I'll do just about anything they need me to, based only on their word. _Matthew crossed his arms over his chest, contemplating when he'd ever taken such commands from someone who was technically lower on the totem pole. _Never_, he filled in. _But there isn't a totem pole where the Watchmen are concerned. I can't control what any of them do…I only get recruited to help clean up after this crap. They're lucky I trust them._

Kelley fiddled with the earpiece that was tucked conveniently out of sight, and grazed the radio in his jacket pocket. The device was turned on, but he hadn't heard very much chatter over the frequency. _I wish they were talking, so I knew what in the world was happening. It would be nice to have some clue about wheth—_

A sound like a massive gunshot shattered the air and Matthew's head whipped around in time to watch a flames shoot up from within a car about a hundred feet behind him. He was still gawking at the unexpected sight when two more blasts decimated vehicles on their block.

The reaction from the curious onlookers who'd gathered to catch a glimpse of what the police were blocking off was instantaneous. People scattered in all directions, running and screaming for help from the surrounding officers.

Matthew ran up closer to the barrier, motioning to the police and newly arrived FBI Agents. "Pull everything back! Pull it back! We have to clear everyone from the area!"

Kelley joined forces with the men and women in starting to herd the crowd down a side street, away from the burning wreckage of three different vehicles. He'd only taken about a dozen steps when it occurred to him that he should probably warn the others. _This couldn't have been a coincidence, could it? But what would be the point of setting of car bombs _here?

The shriek of nearby tires drew him to look back to the barricade, and answer his own question.

* * *

***Ahem. You didn't forget about the Dagos, did you?**


	29. Assault

Shunshi felt a little worthless as he leaned against the back seat of the Avalanche, watching Marcus Sloan start a blood transfusion for the purple-masked turtle. Donatello was sprawled in the open backend, and he hadn't said a word since Sayuri returned to the basement to help with transporting the rest of the turtles.

It was an odd feeling for the fourteen-year-old to see one of his mentors in such a position. Being injured was unfortunately nothing unusual, but the teen was used to seeing the _aftermath_ of such events, not catching everything from the beginning. He was grateful that the turtle didn't seem to be in a lot pain, but Shunshi had a hunch Donatello wouldn't admit the extent he was suffering willingly. _Not with his brothers still on their way out of the building, and likely hurt much worse than he._

The Asian boy gave his sister a sidelong glance. She was perched rearward on the seat like him, gazing at the scene in the backend. It was very easy to see Hisui's nerves; but then, he was _always_ able to tell how the young woman was feeling. _She might be able to mask things for the sake of other people, but never for me._

"Marc," Donny rasped. "I'm really thirsty. Throat is on fire."

Marcus shook his head. "I'm sorry – you know the best I can do is oxygen for now. We have to be on the safe side where shock is concerned. I can't risk your temperature fluctuating any further when you've already got the adrenaline in your system."

"It's okay," the turtle murmured. "I can wait."

April winced and squeezed the turtle's wrist. The red-haired woman was propped up by Donatello's right side, leaving clear space for Marcus to access him from the left and the back. "Are you sure we can't do anything, Marc?"

The man shook his head. "I would if I could."

"It's okay, April," Don repeated. "I'll be all right."

"Always have to be a tough guy," she told him.

"If I thought begging would change his mind, I might try," he replied.

"What if I begged _for_ you?" she offered impishly.

Marcus made a disapproving sound. "Talking isn't going to do your throat any favors, Donny."

Shunshi thought he saw a smile almost appear underneath the turtle's Oxi.

"Age has made you tougher, Marc. What happened to my pushover?" Donny wondered.

"He's on vacation; you're stuck with _me_ tonight."

Hisui chuckled softly. "He will be no harder on you than necessary, Donatello-san."

Don's eyes roved backward, searching out the young woman's location. He turned his head slightly and managed to fix on both Shunshi and Hisui behind him. "Hey, guys. I barely knew you were there."

"We're here to help," Hisui told him.

The turtle laid his head back down. "We have the best friends…"

"That's what _we_ think, Donny-san," Shunshi replied pointedly. He started to grin, but was startled by the sight of Marcus nearly hitting the roof.

"Wait a second – _what? _How did they…" The dark-haired man trailed off, gripping a hand over the earpiece for his radio. The sudden panic that entered Marc's features wasn't reassuring. "No, _they're_ still inside the building, and the rest of us are out here!"

April jerked upright, staring at Marcus intensely. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

The man held up a hand to stall her, and appeared to be listening closely to whatever someone was saying. "We don't need guns. We have the Battleshell! If they're here for _more_ trouble, that's exactly what they'll get!"

Marcus yanked his earpiece so hard that it went flying. "A couple of vehicles got through the police barricade, and Kelley says they're heading this way!"

"Wait, hold on!" Donny's voice soared slightly while he tried to rise with the use of his good arm. "What are you doing?"

"They're not coming to surrender nicely, Don," Marcus said bluntly. "Don't you dare move another inch. I _know_ what I'm doing."

"Maybe we should brush up on the weapons—"

"Not needed, and we don't have time!" the man shot back. "After what happened at Indian Point, I read the manual!"

"You _too_?"

"I have to go! April, close these doors behind me, and make sure everything is locked tight! Kelley said the vehicles split up, but they're definitely working together! He's chasing a van down the block as we speak, and I have to be ready to meet them!"

"_Marc!_" the turtle cried. "Take them out!"

Marcus Sloan returned with the darkest look Shunshi had ever seen from the mild-mannered doctor. "I intend to."

"Be careful!" April commanded.

"I'll be right back," he said softer. "Shut these doors."

The woman shuddered as she obeyed, and then threw a look over her shoulder. "Guys, make sure the rest of the doors are locked! We'll batten down for now until we hear anything else. Isn't there another radio up front?"

Shunshi climbed over the seat to check the rest of the doors, and scooped up a radio from the dashboard. "It has no earpiece, April-san, but I imagine it will still work!"

The woman accepted the device from him and flicked the power button. "Tim! Tim, do you read me?"

"I've got you, April, and I heard Kelley's mayday!" the man crackled in response. "Is Marcus on the move?"

"He's going to take the Battleshell, and the rest of us are locked up in the Avalanche!"

"Good – stay put. We're still working on getting two of the guys through the trap door! It's not easy going, but we'll make it. I'll let you know when we're on the way out, and you tell me if anything changes on your side!"

"Will do, Tim," she replied tightly and lowered the radio. April's transformed the moment she gazed at Donatello. "It's going to be okay. You heard Tim…they're close to getting out." She tucked a thin blanket tighter around his plastron.

"I should have gone…" he wavered.

April shook her head firmly. "You're in no condition to fight _or_ drive. Even if you'd trie—"

The sound of nearby gun fire made April cut off and bend closer to the turtle, as if she needed to protect him from the imminent threat.

"It's all right, April," Donny assured her this time. "Marc has the bigger guns. He's used them before, and he'll use them again. I know it."

The woman stretched out beside him on the carpet once more, and looked up at Shunshi and Hisui. "You two should stay down, just in case. I doubt Marc or Director Kelley would let them get this close without a fight, but let's not take any chances."

Shunshi turned to obey, but was then transfixed by a sudden flash of light. Slowly he rose from the seat, and moved back up front to investigate.

"Shun, what are you doing?" his sister asked.

"I thought I saw headlights," he returned. "Maybe it was just…" When he saw twin beams this time, there was no mistaking it. "Someone is here!"

"Maybe it's Director Kelley!" April suggested.

"Perhaps you should call him, April-san," Hisui requested.

The red-haired woman picked up the radio and tried to hail the Director. She repeated his name over the frequency a couple of times, but there was no reply. "I'm not getting anything from him!"

"Shun, come away from the windshield!" Donatello called as loudly as he could. "Get down and stay out of sight!"

The teenager obeyed, dropping instantly to the floor between the front seats and the first bench. "What are we doing?"

"Wait!" April instructed. "Nobody do _anything_."

Silence fell over the Avalanche, and for the first few seconds, they didn't hear a single sound. Gunfire repeated around the block, and it was followed by a louder blast that made Shunshi want to cover his ears. In that moment, he was glad that neither his sister nor April or Donatello could see the way he cringed underneath the seat. _I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid. I'm going to be a ninja. I can't act like a scared little kid._

There was a second blast, but this one sounded farther away. The boy took a deep breath as silence settled once more, and hoped that the worst was over. That was when he heard the slam of two car doors in succession. Shunshi found himself holding his breath again.

"I heard a car," he mentioned.

"Don't move yet," the woman responded.

Time temporaily suspened while they waited for something else to happen. The unmistakable sound of glass shattering nearby made Shunshi's fingernails dig into the carpet. He lay still on the floor, not stirring even when he saw a small beam of light travel through the windshield. The rest of the windows in the Avalanche were tinted so darkly, no one would be able to see what was inside the car. "Someone is outside," he said more quietly.

"_Shhh!_" Hisui warned him, reaching for his arm under the seat. "Stay calm."

He rolled over, and could just make out his sister on the floor. "Okay," he whispered.

Shunshi could hear a muffled voice talking outside the vehicle, and the individual seemed to be lingering.

"Do we have any weapons?" Donny's voice was faint.

"I have the tire-iron," April volunteered.

"I have my mace," Hisui added.

"I have my training," Shunshi finished.

The turtle's breathing sounded incredibly shaky. "Don't engage. Not unless the car is breached."

The shadow outside the Avalanche was moving, making a circle around the vehicle. The stranger stopped by the passenger side door, and Shunshi heard something rap against the glass. He clenched his fists nervously when the object slammed the window harder.

"If you have to make a move, do it quickly," Donny strained. "Catch them off guard, and you'll do more damage."

"_Aneki_, "Shunshi hissed. "Can you reach the door handle from where you are?"

Hisui shifted, crawling to the door. "From here, yes, but why—"

"You've got to unlatch it quickly if I tell you." He scooted closer to the passenger side door and got his legs into position.

"Shunshi, what are you doing?" April pressed.

"Preparing, just in case."

The words had barely escaped his mouth when a third strike leveled against the window, shattering tempered glass in all directions.

Shock registered briefly before he bellowed at his sister. "Hisui – _now!_"

He waited while the young woman rapidly unlocked the side and lifted the handle, and then plowed both feet into the door as hard as he could. Shunshi heard a satisfying connection as the door crashed into someone on the other side, but didn't take time to celebrate. He leaped through the opening to the startled curse of a figure scrambling to get off the ground.

Shunshi spied a large gun on the ground, and he kicked it toward the stairs that led to the basement. The weapon clattered against the side of the building, but didn't go down the steps as he'd intended.

The formerly downed man charged at him with a growl. There was no time for the teenager to think – only to react. He rapidly whipped his body around to create momentum for a spinning back kick, and struck the heel of his left foot into his attacker's rib cage. As the winded figure fought for air, Shunshi lunged for the gun, and sent it flying the rest of the way down the stairs.

The irate face of the stranger was waiting as he jerked back around. "C'mere, you little punk!"

Shunshi fought to control his breathing, taking the correct stance that'd been drilled into him. He saw the man's blow coming and intentionally blocked his arm at an angle to create a wider opening for a counterstrike. He threw a cross-punch, twisting his fist at the last instant to maximize the speed and magnify the force against the same spot he'd already kicked.

The pained cry of someone else drew his attention briefly, and the sight of a second man writhing on the ground indicated that Hisui had dealt him a healthy dose of her mace. He had time to watch April raise the tire iron over the stranger before his _own_ attacker sufficiently recovered.

Shunshi grinned when the hook punch came toward him this time, easily weaving underneath it. He lashed his right arm across his body, landing an elbow strike to the taller man's jaw. When his opponent staggered, he landed an identical blow to the other side of his face with his left arm. The stranger slumped backwards to the ground. He was preparing yet another attack if was needed, when he was distracted by his sister's shout.

"_Shun!_"

Over his shoulder he saw two more people coming, and the shadows didn't hide the gun one of them was waving. Shunshi braced himself for the conflict, but the shriek of tires at the opening of the alley prevented him from moving. Another smile came over his face at the familiar broad form of Director Kelley.

Matthew stepped forward carefully, gun held high at the advancing men. "You're outnumbered and outgunned!" he warned them. "If you don't believe me, come see the smoldering wreckage that _used_ to be your buddies!"

Shunshi let out a soft breath, his shoulders relaxing as the armed attacker lowered his gun. Upon closer inspection, he had a hard time believing the shrinking bespectacled man would have been able to use the weapon.

Shunshi heard the scrape of gravel behind him and started to turn his head right before a long knife blade whipped around his neck. He started to struggle, only for the blade to press stronger against his throat.

"Not another step!" his opponent directed Kelley. The man shot Shunshi a cruel smile. "What made you want to come out and play with the big boys, kid?"

"You tried to kill my friends!" Shunshi said indignantly, angry with the man _and_ himself for being caught.

"Correction: I'm _going_ to kill your friends, and whoever else is inside that building!"

"Jackson, you're outnumbered," Kelley said reasonably. "What do you think you're gonna do with that knife, really?"

The man laughed. "Carlson, you established a signal, right?"

The other man besides the glasses-wearer nodded his head, but his entire body shook.

Jackson jerked Shunshi closer to his side, nicking the knife under his chin. "Move, and you're dead." His other hand plunged into his jacket pocket and came out with a small box. "Every plan needs a fail-safe – and you're looking at mine."


	30. Hostage

***It's been a while since I've addressed Tim's work history. It's about to come in handy again.**

* * *

Tim was running. He had no idea what was happening outside the building, and his inability to reach anyone spurred him to take action of his own. The team had managed to finish the careful process of bringing the rest of the turtles through the trap door, but they still had a ways to go. As reluctant as he was to leave them, he didn't make a habit of ignoring a gut instinct.

He looked up once or twice as he sprinted across the basement, wincing at the sound of the floor shaking above them. _Who knows how much time this building has left? It probably wasn't in great shape before someone started taking it apart beam-by-beam._ Tom forced himself to tear away from the ceiling, and searched out the faint light of the alley instead.

When he saw the staircase ahead, he was able to pick up more speed as another wave of adrenaline was tapped. He dashed up the steps to their homemade "door", and froze when he found an assault weapon he _knew_ hadn't been there several minutes before. Hardly a thought crossed his mind as he ripped off his helmet and Oxi, and grappled for the .308 rifle secured on his back.

Tim took the stairs leading to the alley two at a time and emerged with his gun raised. The first person he saw was Director Kelley with his gun also ready, and the larger man did a double-take of him.

"Captain Long?"

"Is there a live threat?" Timothy demanded.

Kelley nodded. "It's Jackson. We have a problem here."

The dark-haired man rapidly turned around, cursing under his breath at the sight of a figure gripping a knife under Shunshi's throat. Out of the corner of his eye he saw April standing stock-still and made a small motion to her.

"Get the headlights of the Avalanche on," he told her.

"I'm afraid to move," she whispered. "Viper might kill him."

Tim shook his head. "Kid's the only bargaining tool he has. He's not going to throw him away because you turned some lights on. _Go._"

The red-haired woman slowly backed away toward the Avalanche, and Kelley inched closer to his side.

"Shunshi isn't his only bargaining chip," Kelley said softly. "That little box in his left hand? He said it's a fail-safe to implode the key points of the Gym. He called it an instant self-destruct."

"That _might_ be true," Tim allowed. "Or he could be full of it."

"Based on what's already happened tonight, I don't think we can afford to take the chance."

"I'm waiting for a decision over here!" Viper cut in before Tim could reply.

"You'll be waiting a little longer," Timothy told him calmly. "You won't get any cooperation from us until you let the boy go, Jackson."

"That's not how things are gonna work," he returned snidely. "This is still _my_ game, and I'm not done playing."

"How is it a game when you have two weapons pointed at your head?" Tim asked. "We won't hesitate to take you down."

"It looks like you already _are_," Jackson said smugly. The headlights of the Avalanche flicked on in the background, and succeeded in startling him. An instant later, the infuriating men was smiling again. "You want a better view to watch the kiddie die?"

"Jackson, I want you to take a good look at my rifle," Timothy said slowly. "You should remember it."

The man cocked his head. "Mr. _Long?_" A wild laugh tore through his throat. "This is too much. That _can't_ be the same gun you showed me the first night I took out your precious baby girl."

"It's one in the same, Jackson. Do you recall me mentioning that I was in SWAT?"

Jackson snorted. "Those days in Jersey are long gone. You're just a fellow pig with the NYPD now, aren't ya?"

"You call me what you like, and I can _still_ take you out faster than you can blink. It doesn't have to end that way, Jackson. There're a lot of people who want to get their hands on you, but I can personally guarantee your safety if you let Shunshi go and surrender to us."

"You think I'd trust you, Long? You couldn't even protect your little girl, no matter how tight you tried to hold on to her. She chose me over _you_. That's gotta piss you off just thinking about it."

Tim took a breath to steady himself and maintained his bead on Jackson. "You've done a lot of things to _piss me off_, but I'm willing to let you live if you release Shunshi."

Jackson shook his head. "You're forgetting what the real problem is here, Long. I already keyed in the code on the detonator." He held up the box and allowed a finger to hover over the display. "One button. That's all it'll take to decimate this place."

"We knocked your frequencies out," Tim informed him.

"And tipped me off to your rescue effort at the same time. I really ought to thank you, Long. But see, I travel with technicians of my own. What _was_ jammed, is no longer."

Kelley brushed a hand across Tim's back. "One of his techs _said_ they achieved a signal." The larger man took another step forward. "The problem with you setting off that thing is your own proximity to the Gym, Jackson. Are we supposed to believe you would jeopardize _yourself_?"

"There's a chance I could be caught in the blast," the man allowed. "That's a risk I'm not afraid to take."

"I'm giving you one last opportunity to let Shunshi go," Tim warned.

Jackson laughed. "You _are_ a single-minded old cuss. I'll give _you_ one last opportunity to surrender to me, before I push this button and end the lives of everyone left in that building. Are you willing to take the risk that I won't follow through?"

"No, I'm not," Timothy said bluntly. He took a deep breath and then held it while he lined up his shot. He squeezed the trigger straight back with the ball of his finger and released. The sound of his rifle rang in his ears but he kept his eyes on his target, praying that his aim was still good enough.

Jackson was driven against the brick by the force of his shot, and Shunshi stumbled to the ground in front of him. Air rushed back into Tim's lungs while he watched Shunshi roll away from man and leap back to his feet.

He sensed other people moving around him, but all of them seemed to be in slow motion as he went to investigate Jackson's remains. Timothy didn't realize that Kelley was beside him until he'd been standing over the dead man for a full thirty seconds.

"Are you _crazy_?!" The bespectacled man backed away in disbelief. "Viper wasn't lying! The fail-safe tied into that remote could have killed us all!"

"Am I crazy?" Tim repeated in astonishment. "I'm not the one who helped him _do_ all of this! Move another inch, and I might put a bullet through _you_!" The severe glare he followed the threat with was enough to make the three remaining men kneel together on the ground.

Kelley was still staring down at Jackson. "Bullet was a through and through. As clean a shot as I've ever witnessed_."_

Tim shrugged off the compliment. "You know I was a sniper. It was the only thing I could think to do. The old Marine who trained me, he said you shoot between the eyes. Performed correctly, your attacker shouldn't be able to set a weapon off even by reflex."

Kelley heaved a huge sigh and thumped an arm across his back. "If you get tired of the NYPD, let me know."

* * *

Kelley paced the front of the alley, cursing every minute that passed on his watch. _They've got to hurry up and get out of here. I can't delay the authorities forever! They're probably getting suspicious as it is. _Kelley couldn't contain a small shudder as he glanced at the Gym, where flames were now licking through the roof. _Not to mention,_ _the building could still explode without one of them detonating it._

He and Tim had long since taken the other suspects including Jackson's right-hand man and his "technicians" into custody, and they were waiting in the back of his sedan. He had nothing else to do except keep an eye on them while the rest of the team finished settling the other turtles inside the Battleshell. _They should be flooring it to get away from here_, he thought impatiently.

Kelley looked past his sedan and down the block. He could see police lights in the distance, but so far they were holding at the correct position. _Exactly what I would have done, if I was following regular procedure. Wherever these turtles are concerned, nothing happens the normal way. _

In the past, he'd taken to questioning whether or not he should have requested to be "let inside of the loop", but the fear he'd experienced that night for the warriors turned vigilantes confirmed where his heart really lay. _The idea of them dying like that under the hands of some crazy thugs…I would have been devastated. If Tim hadn't shot that man, I would have had to. Probably better to let the marksman stick to his specialty. _

_I don't know how I'll explain any of this yet. We could probably get the technicians to crack, given the right incentive. If any of them try to bring up the turtles though…well, I guess that's the easy part. It's the one claim no authority is going to take seriously. Hopefully they won't even be stupid enough to _try_ dragging the guys into it._

"Director!"

Kelley turned his head at the sound of Greg's voice. "Are they ready to leave yet?"

"Nearly, sir! Could you come to the Avalanche for a minute? I can watch those three if you're concerned about them going anywhere."

Kelley rubbed his temples. "Handcuffs should be enough to contain them, but given the way the evening has gone…You don't mind keeping an eye on them?"

"No, go ahead."

Matthew trotted to the open backend of the Avalanche and offered a half grin to the purple-masked turtle who was propped up on one arm. Donatello was still wearing his Oxi and his eyes looked heavy, but he nodded his head in greeting to the man.

"I bet you shouldn't be doing that," Kelley suggested. "You look rough, Donatello. You need to lie down."

"If you'll come in for a second, I will," he relented easily.

Matthew leaned against the back of the car, resting his elbows at the turtle's side. "So. Would you say luck was _in_ your favor tonight?"

"I wouldn't call it luck…exactly." He punctuated the last word with a groan.

Shunshi's head poked over the seat. "Marcus-san said you should rest."

"That's what I said too," Kelley agreed. "We'll talk later, Donatello; you can be sure of that."

"_Wait_," Donny insisted. "Just stay a minute."

Kelley shuffled awkwardly on his feet, but didn't move. It took a lot to get him uncomfortable, but somehow the turtle was achieving it.

"We owe you…so much."

Kelley's forehead creased as the quiet words settled on his ears. "Look, I'm not responsible for saving you guys. Your heroes are finishing up with your brothers…and sitting right behind you."

Shunshi smiled at the man faintly, but said nothing in return.

"Every piece…every ally was vital," Don continued. "You put yourself on the line for us."

Kelley hesitated for a long beat. "And I would do it again in a heartbeat. You don't owe me anything for this trip, Donatello. If you make a habit of it, however…"

A small chuckle escaped the turtle. "Thank you for being our friend, Matthew."

The man smiled broadly. "Still not quite one of the Watchmen though, right?"

Donatello held out his good arm. "You can be whatever you want."

"'Friend' will do for now." Matthew squeezed his hand, but the turtle's pressure in return was weak. "You take good care of yourself, and don't fight any of your medical people. They're the experts at keeping all of you alive."

"They are."

"I'll be in touch soon. I never got my grand tour of your building."

"We'll get on it," Don said tiredly.

Kelley patted his arm and straightened upright. "Meanwhile, I'm gonna figure out some way to explain some of this cockamamie evening."

Donatello shook his head. "Good luck."


	31. Arriving

Jenna felt like she'd been holding her breath for over an hour. She wasn't sure why she hadn't passed out yet. Looking around at the faces of her sister-in-laws, she could tell they weren't faring any better. _I should be able to relax since they're almost home, but I can't do it. They may be out of the Gym, but the guys aren't out of the _woods_ yet. _

They'd only had a few glimpses of Caleb and Jazz. It would have been easy to pop into the Lab to see what the two were doing to prepare for the turtles' arrival, but Jenna was convinced it would make her more anxious than she already was.

Her mother had been up and down the stairs several times in the last 60 minutes, distracting Reina and Olivia. Not surprisingly, the two girls hadn't settled down to go to sleep. _How could they? The girls have to know something's dreadfully wrong. They're young – not stupid. If I was them and it was my parents on some unknown mission, or in harm's way…I wouldn't be asleep either._

Now the moment of truth had arrived, and the women _still_ weren't moving. When Caleb headed for the elevator to the garage he'd strictly ordered them to stay put until the team had safely transported everyone. It was getting harder to obey the final instruction with every passing minute.

The raven-haired woman attempted to focus on the others, just to ease her own racing heart-rate. Karina was the only one not currently sitting; the bronze-haired woman had taken to pacing, but her gaze was fixed on the elevator. _Wonder how long the docs will be able to keep her away from Raph._ Jenna shook her head.

Rebecca met her gaze when Jenna glanced her direction. The fear was easy to read in her blue-green eyes, but the woman somehow smiled at her.

"It's going to be all right," Becky said. "They're in good hands."

Jenna simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak. From what she'd been able to glean from Donatello, she knew that the orange-masked turtle was likely in the most immediate danger, but it was information she'd chosen not to share. Part of her felt guilty for it, but she wasn't compelled to share news that wouldn't encourage anyone.

She looked at Calley last, and almost wished she hadn't. The blond woman had both legs drawn against her chest, and was hiding her face completely from view. Calley hadn't spoken since Tim informed her that they were going to wait behind for everyone else, but Jenna was aware of what was going through her mind. _She's got to blame herself for this, but that isn't fair. The Dagos don't seem to be interested in her. Given everything that's happened tonight…they probably only threatened Calley to get the guys' attention. _

Calley's posture suggested it was better to leave her alone, but Jenna couldn't do it. She rose from her end of the couch and slowly sat down beside her step-sister. Without a word she circled an arm around her back, and felt the woman stiffen.

"You don't have to," Calley said faintly, though Jenna guessed she would have rather pushed her away altogether.

"I think I do," Jen told her. "I'm not gonna sit here and let you take responsibility for something that isn't your fault."

"I have been _nothing_ but trouble for them since Leonardo found me on that ledge."

"That's not true, _hermana_." Karina's voice startled Jenna a little; she hadn't noticed the Latin woman come up behind them. "We've all had our own ups and downs, haven't we? But the amount of good you've done for Leo and this family would be impossible to measure. You're the reason my baby girl wasn't discovered in that hospital years ago…and you're the reason I've been confident through so many of our men's trials."

"She's right," Jenna affirmed. "You know it too. Even when the Akiudo had Donny _and_ Leo, you were the one comforting me. You see to the heart of things better than almost anyone I've ever met. I can't tell you how to feel right now, but I can remind you of the truth. You changed Leo, you changed this family, and our lives are better off for having you in them."

Rebecca circled around front of Calley while Karina came around on her left side, so that they were effectively surrounding her. "You've always carried burdens, Calley. Out of all the enemies who've been against you, guilt is the one that stuck with you the longest. You can't change the past, but punishing yourself won't make up for it either. _Don't_ do this. Don't turn this awful night into something else you have to pay for."

Jenna felt Calley shudder under her arm and squeezed her tighter. The blond woman looked up for the first time, and her eyes were red from the tears from she'd been concealing. She gasped softly a few times before she could manage words.

"I just want them to be all right. Why aren't they down here yet?"

Jenna wanted to turn away from her last question, but couldn't bring herself to do so. "Some of their injuries are sensitive. It's the same reason that Doc went into the building too, to ensure that they were handled correctly. They'll take care of them, Calley."

Calley rubbed her eyes and sat up straighter on the couch. "I suppose…they've made it this far…"

"Then there's no way our docs are going to drop the ball now," Karina filled in.

"They never have before. That's why we keep them around," Becky finished impishly.

Looking down at the curly-haired woman, Jenna had a rush of her own guilt for failing to speak up about Michelangelo's condition.

"Becky…listen, maybe…" she faltered, not knowing how to phrase the warning. "We need to prepare ourselves for the severity of some injuries."

Rebecca exhaled. "You don't have to say anything, Jen. I already know."

"You know _what?_"

"Doc told me about the shrapnel before they left."

Jenna bit her lip. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"I understand why you didn't. It's okay."

"Oh, Becky, I…" Jenna was saved from having to finish by the chime of the approaching elevator. She instantly went rigid, and Calley reached out to grasp her wrist. Her breath was stolen from her the hundredth time that night as the doors opened.

A dust covered Luke emerged backwards, guiding the back of one of the makeshift stretchers with Katherine on his right, and Brandon and Kouhei supporting them from behind. Jenna flinched upon catching a glimpse of Mike's coloring, but she couldn't see the dangerous injury which was threatening his life.

"When we have him down, I want you guys to head back up to the garage to help with the others!" the doctor barked, not appearing to notice the women. " I've got to jump into the shower in the lab to get myself sterilized for surgery!"

"Luke, I want to clean up so I can help you," Kat answered.

"As long you're thorough, Kat!" Luke finally glanced the women's direction as they passed the couches on their way through the room. His eyes rested on Rebecca the longest, and he seemed to make a snap judgment. "Becky, c'mere. You can sit with him while I'm getting ready and the others are being brought in."

Rebecca didn't hesitate for a moment, chasing after the group which was still in motion.

The second chime almost gave Jenna whiplash. Marcus was the first one off this time, leading the next stretcher with Sayuri at his side, and Tim and Greg bringing up the rear. Even as they came off the elevator, Brandon and Kouhei were clambering back _on _to return to the garage.

"Almost there, you guys, keep it steady!" Marc ordered.

Jenna rose slightly to make out the blue-masked turtle between them. She clutched Calley's hand reassuringly, and the blond woman rose to her feet.

"Marcus…" Calley ventured, trotting after them.

"You can have a few minutes with him," he answered without looking back.

Karina shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Jenna didn't bother inviting her to sit down; she knew the words would fall on deaf ears. Tim and Greg rushed past them to return to the elevator, and then it was only a matter of waiting for the next turtle.

The next time the elevator doors opened, the first thing they heard was the red-masked turtle's voice.

"…_told_ you I don't need this thing!" As disoriented as he sounded, it was a relief to hear Raphael speak.

"Everything will be okay, Raph," Caleb assured him from the front of the stretcher with Timothy.

"Where r' my bros?" he demanded, muffled by the Oxi. "If you left 'em I'm cut off your knees and feed them to Diamond!"

Karina hustled across the room to get the turtle's side. "Jazz's dog doesn't eat people, Tortuga. Now relax and don't give the guys any trouble."

"But where _are_ they?"

"You'll see them later, Raph," Tim told him and then glanced at Caleb. "It's a _good_ thing he's tied down."

Caleb shook his head. "We've learned a _few_ things through the years."

Jenna took another shaky breath as the group left her behind in the Great Room on her own. She got to her feet in anticipation of the men hurrying back to the elevator, but it chimed once more before they returned from the lab. The woman dashed across the room as the doors reopened, sighing gratefully when she saw her husband in a wheelchair.

She took a couple of steps back to allow Brandon to wheel Donny off the elevator, but then bent down to embrace the purple-masked turtle. "_Donny._"

"Watch his shoulder," Brandon said quickly. "Doc thinks he tore his rotator cuff."

Jenna grimaced and carefully avoided the arm pressed against his side. His Oxi was a bit inhibiting, but it didn't stop her from kissing his head. The turtle tried to wrap his other arm around her, but the small action made him slump forward dangerously. She caught him around the plastron with alarm while Brandon snatched him from behind.

Don's breathing deepened. "I'm all right," he murmured. "Off balance."

Brandon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you're all right, and I'm the Queen of England."

Jenna took a silent moment to survey the dust-coated turtle, taking in smaller injuries before working her way down to his leg. The new white bandages were a stark contrast to the rest of his form, and she was relieved not to see evidence of bleeding. "What is it with your legs, Donny? They're like magnets for destruction."

"Why are you asking _me_?" Don blinked rapidly with the question and his upper body swayed.

Brandon's grip tensed around his good shoulder. "You need to lie down."

"He's nowhere close to being off the hook!" Marcus called across the room. The dark-haired doctor strode to reach them, and Jenna stepped to the side so the man could get to Donny.

Marcus took a quick look at his pupils and nodded. "I think you're already crashing from the adrenaline, Don."

"Duration is three hours," he mumbled.

"Not in this case," Marc said briskly. "Brandon, let's get him to the lab."

Brandon started pushing again, while Marcus supported the turtle from the left side to make certain he stayed in the chair. Jenna kept up behind them, following the men into the lab. She bit her lip when she saw the rest of the turtles awaiting medical attention, and hesitated in the background while Marcus and Brandon worked together to get Donatello into the last bed.

The dark-haired doctor turned around and waved at her. "You're free to stay for now, Jen. He may be conscious for a little while longer, but don't freak out when he goes under. Doc gave him an adrenaline shot inside the building, and the crash from it is usually pretty nasty."

Jenna came over to Donatello's side and rested one hand over his. "What else? Why do they still have their Oxi's on?"

"It's a precaution because of smoke inhalation," Marc replied. "It was a seriously close call."

"And your night's not over yet."

He shook his head. "No, but we'll get through it. Excuse me, Jenna."

When she glanced back down at the turtle, she found Don gazing at her.

"Love you," he said hoarsely.

She leaned down to kiss his forehead again. "I love you. It's okay to rest – you did your job."

He winced. "The guys."

"What are friends for, Donny? Do you trust the docs or not?"

"Yes…"

"If they fought that hard to get you _out_ of the building, will they let your brothers slip through their fingers now that they're home?"

"No." His voice was fainter.

"Then don't be afraid to let go. I'll stay with you until they kick me out."

"Y-you're the best, Jen."

She shook her head as his eyes slipped close. _No…you are_.


	32. Reminders

Calley was so intimidated by the speed Marcus and Caleb were traveling at, she tried to blend into the background for the first couple of minutes inside the Lab. Being allowed to remain close to the action was strange in itself, but not a privilege to be taken for granted. _At least I _thought_ it would be a privilege. It feels a lot more like being a roadblock._

"Marcus!" Caleb's voice rang across the room. "Luke said to go ahead and intubate him!"

"I'm almost there with Mike!" Marc returned. "I could use some more help over here if someone has free hands!"

Calley was ashamed to allow Hisui to run past her to join the dark-haired doctor, but she still felt like more of a statue than a real assistant. She numbly watched Rebecca and the young Asian woman join forces to help clean up the orange-masked turtle for surgery. After a few seconds something snapped in her mind, and she realized she was wasting precious time. _There's got to be things I can do. I'm not going to just stand here like worthless lump._

She pursued Caleb as the man headed for the sink. "What can I do? The timer is already set for switching the ice and heat packs on Leo, but there must be something else I can help with."

The bespectacled man nodded. "All of the boys need to be thoroughly sanitized. The job is a lot more important than it sounds, because of the risk of infection. My guess is that Raph will be the next priority after Michelangelo, so you could assist Karina."

Calley turned her head to see the bronze-haired woman. "Okay. If I get in the way, you're going to tell me, right?"

"We won't keep that a secret, Calley." Caleb gaze was distracted, focused over his shoulder. "I can't remember if I told Karina, but make sure the water is lukewarm. We're trying to avoid any serious fluctuations with their temperatures. I need to check on Donatello."

Calley went the opposite direction of the doctor, hurrying to Karina's side. She winced at the sight of the restraints lashing the red-masked turtle down to the bed, though she knew it was for his own protection. "Hey, Karina. I'm here to help you with him."

The Latin woman snorted. "Raph _would_ have to be the liveliest of the bunch. Part of me feels sorry for him, and the rest wishes he'd take a nap like the rest of them."

The half-hearted growl that erupted from behind the Oxi was a far cry from Raphael's fiercest. "Jus…lemme go."

Karina shook her head. "Can't do that, Tortuga, sorry. You're going to have to tough it out."

"Kari? It's all spinnin'."

"Talk to him," Calley encouraged her. "It might keep him calmer. I can take over cleaning in the meantime."

"Are you sure? If you'd rather be with Leo…"

"Leo's getting help too. I think it's better if we work together, like Becky and Hisui are doing."

"He'd probably shut up faster if he had his IV." Karina nodded toward the machine that had been prepared, but not yet administered.

Raphael's head turned toward Karina's voice. "Can you stop?"

"Stop what, Raph?"

"The room. 's making me sick."

"I bet it wouldn't be as bad if you closed your eyes," she encouraged him.

Calley went to the tray to pick up where Karina had left off, and started to scrub away the remnants of dust and dirt ground into the turtle's skin. The physical effort energized her much more than she'd expected.

"Where are we with Mike?" Luke's sudden reappearance startled Calley so badly that she nearly knocked over the vessel holding her water.

"He's intubated, sterilized, and I gave him four more units of noraphim!" Marcus called back. "Mike's probably about ready to go, but Raph and Leo still need their IV's! Caleb, did you hook Donny up while you were over there?"

"Not yet, because I was waiting for instructions from Luke." Caleb strode across the room. "I wanted to avoid any drug interactions, but Donatello's going to need _something_. His blood pressure has dropped further from the first reading you took in the Avalanche, Marcus!"

Luke cursed quietly. "It's that wretched adrenaline; I _knew_ this could happen!"

Marcus cocked his head. "It could be related more to shock than his body's physical response to—"

"It doesn't _matter_ what it's related to!" Luke interrupted. "Maybe…this is the situation to bring in the suprocortisone. Donny and I wanted to do another stage of testing first, but the benefits far outweigh the risks at this point."

"Do you have it prepared?" Caleb asked.

The blond doctor nodded. "I'll start with a small initial dose intravenously, and see how it affects his blood pressure. I want the two of you get Leo and Raph hooked up to their IV's, and double-check their oxygen levels. If the Oxis aren't providing enough support, then I'd prefer to move to a respirator sooner than later. Turn the volume up on all the monitors so we get the appropriate warning if more issues arise."

Calley turned away from the scene as all three doctors addressed different tasks. There was nothing she could do about anything they'd discussed, but she _could_ focus on the job she'd been given. The blond woman tried to tune out everything else, including the emotions that'd been warring in her mind for the last couple of hours.

_Our entire family is home, against incredible odds. There's a lot going on, but the docs still seem to have things under control. This isn't the time to be discouraged. _Calley was relieved to sense a familiar calm stirring inside her, even if there didn't seem to be a reason for it yet. The intuition that had rarely failed her in recent years was intact, doing battle with the fear that had ruled the evening.

_Viper set out to destroy them, and he failed. Nothing inside that building succeeded in taking their lives. The guys are too stubborn to give up now. Not when they've already come so far. If they all can just last the rest of the night, I _know_ we'll be in the clear._

* * *

Calley stared at the monitor displaying the blue-masked turtle's life signs. The waving lines had a nearly hypnotic effect in the quiet that had descended upon the Lab. She had long since finished the cleansing process for Leonardo with some help from Katherine, but she was reluctant to leave her husband.

The other women besides Hisui and Kat had vacated the Lab with respect for the surgical procedure taking place on the other side of their wall of curtains, but since they hadn't been _told_ to leave, Calley felt she could push her presence a little longer.

Calley's eyes suddenly shifted from the machine to gaze at her two remaining companions. They were functioning mainly as babysitters; a couple extra pairs of eyes to stay near the other three turtles in case of a problem that the doctors would need to be alerted of immediately.

Kat met her with a tired smile. "Your Papa was something else tonight, Calley. It sort of felt like I was going back to school."

The blond woman shook her head. "You're extremely talented in your own right, Kat."

"I've worked for many years to get where I am, Calley," she answered wistfully. "Your father's a hard worker too, but it's more than that. He has a gift that can't be taught…You're a lot like him in that respect."

Calley glanced at the floor to avoid Katherine's gaze. "My father and I are very different people. He's always stuck to the straight and narrow…_always_ tried to do the right thing. I've gotten lost more times than I can count, but it didn't keep him from looking for me. When I was at my lowest point and death felt like the only escape…it was his face that kept coming back to me. I think it might be the only thing that _stopped _me from ending it completely."

"It's good to be grateful for him," Katherine acknowledged. "But don't forget where you are _now_, Calley."

"I haven't," she said softly, squeezing Leonardo's wrist. "I couldn't." She caught the bronze-haired woman's yawn, though Katherine tried to mask it. "I wouldn't mind staying with Hisui, you know. You're entitled to some rest."

Kat shook her head. "I'm fine; just give me a chance to catch my second wind. Eventually you _will _be kicked out for a while," she finished apologetically.

"I know…" Calley looked down at Leonardo with a twinge of regret. "I wish I could have talked to him. If you're here when he comes around and I'm not, would you make sure someone gets me?"

"You bet I will."

"You sure you don't need a breather?"

Katherine crossed her arms as she leaned back in her chair. "If I absolutely feel like I'm going to pass out, I'll let someone know too. Promise."

"Well…" Calley glanced at the curtain partition. "I haven't seen my dad since they got back."

"Calley, you can go. You're not abandoning Leo."

The blond woman slowly rose. "Don't forget to let me know if anything changes, or if you need help."

"I won't."

Calley swallowed as she snuck through the curtain, and made a beeline for the door without glancing back at the procedure taking place across the Lab. The sitting area in the Great Room was full; exactly as she'd expected to find. A few hopeful faces looked up as she approached them, but she shook her head. "I don't know anything. Sorry."

"It's not your fault," Becky replied. "Do you want to pull up a couch cushion with us?"

"I would, but I think I need coffee first." Calley's gaze searched the room until it fixed on her father. "Would anyone else like some?"

"If there's a new pot, it won't go to waste," Tim told her, rising from a chair. "I'm an old man. I could use a refresher myself."

He followed Calley into the kitchen, and she busied herself with adding water to the machine so she wouldn't have to say anything right away.

"Are you doing okay?" he asked.

"Yeah…considering." She tapped the coffee crystals until the measuring cup was precisely level.

Tim took a couple of steps closer. "Can I do anything?"

Calley sniffed as she dropped the measuring cup back into the coffee can. "You already _did_."

"Leave it for a minute." Tim stretched out an arm to her shoulder, and she fell into his embrace without any further encouragement.

Tears hit Calley harder than she'd anticipated and all thought of real conversation went out the window. If it wasn't for her father's arms, she wasn't sure she would have been _able_ to stand. When she raised her head, she was moved by the tears in _his_ blue eyes.

"I wish I could make this easier for you…but I really believe the guys are going to be okay."

"I believe it too," she assured him. "Oh, Dad…the last couple of weeks have stirred all of these memories and things I didn't want to think about. Every wrong decision has hung over my head…starting with abandoning you."

"Calley, that's the past."

"I know it is…I'm just being reminded again of how incredible you are." He half-chuckled, but she shook her head. "You _are_. I've got to be one of the luckiest girls on the planet to have you for a dad. You never gave up on me."

"I consider myself lucky to have _you_. If things had gone differently with me and your mom, a lot of it might never have happened."

"Don't say that, Dad. You've been the only constant thing in my life since the day I was born. I have you to thank for my husband tonight too."

"That was a group effort, and I'm just _glad_ they're home."

Calley impulsively wrapped her arms around him again. "I love you."

"I love you, Sweetheart. Don't let any of these last couple of weeks continue to weigh you down. You've moved past all of this."

She rested her head against his shoulder. "It never hurts to be reminded."


	33. Priorities

It was a little after 4:30 in the morning, yet Rebecca wasn't tempted by sleep. Her level of confidence in their exceptional medical team was firm, but that didn't mean she could relax. She was far from the only person waiting in the Great Room to hear an update, even if the late hour was clearly taking a toll on some of the others.

As she gazed around the room at the other men and women responsible for chasing after the turtles they _all _loved to the ends of the Earth, pride and gratefulness welled up inside her again. The work they'd accomplished in a very short span of time was remarkable, and the _only_ reason that the family was still intact.

Becky shifted her head to look toward the Lab once more, and received a furry reminder of the cat that was curled up directly behind her on the back of the couch. She traced her fingers lightly under Tiger's chin, and the feline rubbed contentedly against her hand. When the woman relaxed against the furniture the cat pressed up closer to her shoulders, and her company was like a soothing blanket.

Rebecca gazed up at the high ceiling, and caught herself smiling at the soft glow of Michelangelo's twinkle lights staring back at her. The white lights were a constant sight, despite the holidays being long passed. The orange-masked turtle's argument that the strands could replace a normal night-light had fallen on mostly deaf ears. _I think the real reason the other guys caved to him was to save them the trouble of taking them back down only to put them up again every year. Most of Mike's suggestions have _some_ logic instilled in them, when you really take the time to consider it._

The soft _click_ of a door shutting drew her back down to the sitting area, and she shot upright when Luke headed toward them. Tiger was unprepared for her sudden movement and the cat plummeted onto the couch cushion.

The blond man's eyes looked tired, but he gave the room a thumbs up before anyone could speak. "Mike's procedure went as well as we could have hoped. We spent the last couple of hours excavating the worst of the shrapnel, and addressing his abdominal wall along with the tear in his liver. The internal bleeding from the tear stopped spontaneously, which actually isn't uncommon where the liver is concerned.

"We created an air-tight patch over his plastron to last for the next year or so, until new bone can regenerate across the gap."

Rebecca let out a deep breath as Tiger weaved against her side, and she drew the animal into her lap. "He's going to be okay?"

Luke nodded. "He's over the hump. We're keeping him on a ventilator for the next few hours, due to complications of surgery, shock, and smoke inhalation. Other than that, Hisui is working on removing the smaller pieces of shrapnel and continuing the disinfecting process so we can focus on Raph next."

"What do you use to patch exactly?" Greg asked curiously.

The doctor smiled faintly. "It involves multiple layers of sterilized fiberglass cloth which is infused with epoxy resin. We had to apply a number of coats, and perform some sanding in-between to guarantee the chemical bond. It's important that the layers are both waterproof and airtight in order to keep out microorganisms. We'll apply a slower drying top-coat of resin in a couple of days."

"What do you anticipate with Raph?" Karina asked.

Luke took a couple of steps toward the Latin woman. "His scans indicate sternal displacement and the presence of a myocardial contusion. We'll make a small incision to pull his sternum back into the correct position with the use of a hook, and closely monitor his pulmonary and respiratory function."

"What's the contusion?" Karina pressed. "What does that mean?"

"It's a bruise of the heart muscle; we're just going to keep an eye on it, as well as his intracranial pressure. We have him on a respirator for additional oxygen support. Numerous complications can arise from the sternal fracture, which is why we're addressing this next."

"What about Leo's ICP?" Calley spoke up quietly.

"It's still a little high," Luke replied honestly. "But the heat/ice therapy is continuing, and I feel good about his prognosis. His leg hasn't been officially set yet, though we have it immobilized in case he comes around."

"You'll remember to let me know if he does?" the blond woman requested.

The doctor nodded. "Of course. We're not exactly trying to keep everyone away...but I would like to point out that _someone_ has to rest, so we can watch over them in shifts."

"Doc, are _you_ guys going to be all right?" Jenna ventured. "It sounds like there's still a lot to do, and you've had a long night already."

"When we're finished with Raph's procedure, I'm going to send Caleb to get some sleep. We'll probably wait to address Leonardo's leg until tomorrow. Donny's wound need serious irrigation, so we won't be able to close it tonight in any case. We also immobilized his right arm, and we'll continue watching all of his vitals. I'm _not_ happy about being forced to give him the adrenaline, but I expect he'll bounce back from it in the next couple of days."

Rebecca shook her head. "It doesn't sound like you guys will have any reason to be bored for a while."

Luke sighed. "No, but we're not complaining. It's certainly better than the alternative. I'd like to reiterate that you can come and visit with them, but we also will need someone to relieve _us_ eventually."

The curly-haired woman got to her feet. "I don't want to intrude for long, but…"

The man reached toward her, and she allowed his arm to circle her shoulders. "You've seen Mike on a ventilator before, so it won't be anything new for you. He might not _look_ good, but it's all in the name of supporting his lungs."

Rebecca inhaled sharply and swallowed to hide her nerves. The memory of the nights she'd spent at the orange-masked turtle's bedside while his lungs were failing was nothing she wanted to relive, but it didn't mean she would stay away from him now. Her heart skipped a beat as Luke walked her into the Lab, and she took a couple more deep breaths to calm herself down.

"You all right?" the man asked.

"Yes," she said automatically. "Don't let me hold you up from Raph."

Becky separated from Luke and slowly went toward her husband. Despite her best effort, tears threatened at the sight of the familiar machine Mike was hooked up.

Hisui looked up uncertainly, rising to her feet to meet her. "Rebecca-san."

"You don't have to get up, Hisui. I know you've worked long hours in here…and I appreciate everything you've done to help the docs and our boys."

Hisui averted startling green eyes. "It is an honor to be of _any_ assistance to them, but I do not mind stepping away either, Rebecca-san."

Becky shook her head. "I'd rather you didn't, if I'm being honest."

The young woman tentatively rested a hand on her shoulder. "Doctor Barrows has much hope for his recovery."

"I have faith in that too," she returned. "It's just…difficult to see him like this again."

Hisui didn't hesitate from putting her arms around her that time. "I cannot picture how hard this is for you."

Rebecca sniffed a few times in an attempt to camouflage her tears. "I hate this feeling. No matter how many times we see one of them hurting, it doesn't get any easier."

"I do not think it could," Hisui said softly. "I fail to see how you can get used to watching someone you love suffer."

Becky didn't say anything for several moments. "They dodged such a huge bullet tonight. It feels _stupid_ to be crying at a time like this."

"You are not stupid, Becky-san," the woman told her gently. "This is the one you love with all your heart, and the father of your child. I would be surprised if you _weren't_ upset."

Rebecca broke partially away from Hisui to gaze longer at Michelangelo. "He _is_ my heart," she murmured. "I forgot what it felt like to be loved unconditionally, until he came along. If there was any possible way that I could bear this _for_ him, I wouldn't have to think about it, Hisui."

The Asian girl smiled. "I understand what you mean, Becky-san. You may not be able to _keep_ him from suffering, but you have been there for him through all of it. That is also important. Mike-san is lucky to have you too."

Rebecca grasped Hisui for a couple more seconds, and then let the woman go. "I guess I should let you get back to what you were doing."

Hisui nodded slowly. "There is still a small amount of shrapnel to come out."

"I'll try not to get in your way; that is…if you don't mind me being here."

"I would not dream of sending you away, Becky-san. Your presence here matters much more than mine."

"I wouldn't say that exactly at the moment, Hisui, but I'm grateful for everything you're doing."

"As I told you, it is an honor to help those who have so often sacrificed _themselves_. And I will not turn away your company either."

Rebecca sat down in a stool on the opposite side from which Hisui was working, and took one of the turtle's hands in her own. _All right, Mikey, I'll spend another night waiting on you…but only because I love you so much it hurts._

* * *

Not twenty minutes had passed inside the lab when Rebecca saw Victoria quietly steal inside the room. The auburn-haired woman spotted her too, and approached her apologetically.

"I'm so sorry, Becky, but I think you're needed."

"What's going on?"

"Nate woke up a few minutes ago, and I can't calm him down."

Rebecca rose swiftly. "I'm sorry, Victoria. You should be asleep by now, not dealing with our kids."

"It's really not a problem; I think your little boy just wants _you_."

"Thank you for getting me." She gave Mike another glance and patted his hand before rising to leave.

Rebecca heard the strains of her five-year-old crying the moment she exited the lab, and picked up her pace to get to the second floor. She found Nathaniel leaning against his door frame, gasping for breath between sobs. She immediately gathered him in her arms and carried Nate back inside his room.

The boy clung to her as she settled onto the edge of his bed. "Shh…it's okay, Nate. I'm here – I've been here the whole time."

"Is Da-ddy home?" He hiccupped.

She nodded. "Yes, he's home."

"He didn't check."

"What?"

"He _always_ checks on me."

Rebecca bit her lip, unsure of how much to tell the little turtle. "Daddy got busy, Nate."

"Can I say good night to him?"

"Um…he can't right now, Honey."

"Mommy, I don't want to go to bed. I heard voices, but _Obaasan_ said it's not time to get up." (Grandma) Nate looked back toward his door. "Daddy can't come up for one minute?"

"No, he can't," she said gently. "Everything is going to be okay. I want you to lie back down, and we'll talk about this in the morning."

"Mommy, what's wrong?"

Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment, mustering willpower not to cry in front of her child. "Nate, I'm going to stay with you, all right?" She tucked the turtle back into his bed, and he snuggled against her as he often had as a baby, craving her body heat.

She stretched out her legs, having made the decision to stay put with her son rather than return to the lab. _It's easy to tell he's Mike's son. They're different in some ways, and so much alike in others. _Becky rested an arm over the rough but comforting texture of Nate's shell, and listened to his breathing deepen while he dropped off to sleep. _It was the right thing. He doesn't need to see Mike like that. Everything _is_ going to be okay. I know it._


	34. Confusion

A steady, rhythmic sound welcomed the oldest turtle back to the real world. It was merely annoying at first, and he tried to ignore it. His inclination was to roll over and escape the intrusion, yet the energy to perform such a difficult act didn't exist. Leonardo's right arm flailed blindly to reach the offending object, but his fingers only grasped with air, before hitting something solid. The surface stung his hand slightly, and made a hollow ring that echoed unnaturally loud in his ears.

Confusion set him to the task of opening his eyes. His dark surroundings didn't answer a single question. He couldn't even identify where he was lying, or why moving was such a chore. Leo tried raising his head a few inches to help him get a better view of the room, but the accompanying dizziness that crashed through his skull wasn't worth it.

He lowered his head slowly and took mental notes of symptoms. _Dizzy, weak, don't know _where _I am. That usually means one thing. I don't remember a fight, or an accident. But if I've got a concussion, I probably wouldn't. _Leo raised his right hand to meet his face, lingering on the mask over his mouth before puzzling over the warmth of his forehead. _That doesn't make any sense. Not unless I'm sick or something too. Darn it, what the _shell _happened?_

He stretched his arm out and ran into the same cool, smooth surface as before. Leonardo blinked rapidly and waited for his gaze to focus on the hazy bars encasing the side of the bed. _Bars? Wait, that means…_He rubbed his eyes fiercely, praying for clear vision. The turtle recognized that he had to be in the Lab now, but it didn't answer any of his other questions.

Again he reached for the bars, using them as leverage to rise a short way. The world tilted before his eyes, but the extra support of the side rail encouraged him to keep trying. The dull throbbing of his head spiked badly enough that he almost let go, but in the end he held on and waited for the pain to subside.

The space around him was little more than indistinct shadows; he couldn't make out anything more than a few inches away, or locate the source of the incessant air compression in the background. That's_ what it is, _he suddenly realized_. I knew I'd heard that sound before._

A nearby gasp startled him, mostly because he couldn't orient on the person who'd made it. Footsteps advanced rapidly his direction, and a small light illuminated the dim surroundings.

"Leo, let go," a woman said firmly. "Lie down. You're in no place to do anything."

It took a few frustrating seconds to recognize the woman. "_Kat_," he said hoarsely. "What…how did…"

"Lie down," she repeated, prying his fingers off the side bar.

It was disappointingly simple to separate from him from the railing, and he was reduced to staring up at her from the pillow. "What happened?"

"That's a complicated story, and I've been instructed to keep things simple. If you'll do me the favor of staying awake, I'm going to go grab Doc."

_Fine, get Doc. _He_ can explain this to me. _Leonardo was tempted to try sitting up again the moment Katherine walked away, but he had enough wits about him to realize that it wouldn't get him on Luke's good side. Instead, he concentrated on scanning what limited area of the room he could see from his position. Images were a little clearer with the introduction of light, but his vision remained poor.

Leonardo glanced the other direction, as if it could somehow alter the problem he was experiencing with his sight. To his left he picked up the blurry image of another bed like his, but it was empty. The turtle's brow creased, but he didn't have the chance to make out anything else before he heard footsteps again.

"Hi," Luke greeted him. "Welcome back."

"Where've I _been?_"

"That's a good question, Leo, but I'm going to put you off for right now. I want to check a few of your vitals."

"And then you'll tell me?"

"I'm going to need you to be patient with me, Leo. It's was a hard night for everyone."

The doctor's tone was so weary that Leonardo remained quiet for several seconds. When the man settled into the task of examining his pupils, he couldn't hold back any more.

"Doc, do I hear a ventilator?"

The man didn't answer for a couple of moments. "Yes."

"Then I'm not the only one hurt."

"No," he replied, maddeningly brief.

"Where are my brothers?"

"All of them are close-by."

"_How_ close?"

"_Leo_."

"You can't expect me not to have questions, Doc! I wake up here, I can't remember…" Leonardo hesitated, attempting to recall the last thing he _had_ been doing. _Raph and I were playing with the kids. _Alarm suddenly seized him strongly and he grappled with the side bar. "Doc, the kids…!"

The man bent lower over the bed and forced him down with gentle firmness. "The kids are _fine_, Leo. They were never in any danger."

The turtle frowned. "But _we_ were. Was it…did something happen at the Gym, Doc?"

"Yes. Your night was a little more 'eventful' then you planned, and that's all you're getting out of me. I know how hard it is to be patient, but I don't want to lay everything on you at the moment. I promise you're going to catch up, Leo."

"Are my brothers all right?"

"I'm fairly certain they _will_ be."

"Who else was hurt, Doc?"

"_All_ of you are hurt, Leo, to varying degrees."

"I'm not going to be able to relax until you give me more information."

Luke reached around to the tap the IV unit on his left side. "I beg to differ, Leo."

"You'd increase the drugs just so you don't have to deal with me?"

"I'd prefer not to boost _any_ of your medication, but I will if I have to."

"You're tempting me to rip those lines right out," he murmured grumpily, though he didn't actually mean it.

The man's eyebrows rose. "You'd rather feel the full effect of a cracked skull?"

The turtle blinked in surprise. He'd surmised the concussion correctly, but didn't expect the latter. "Really?"

"Leo, I told you it was a long night. If I wanted you to lie awake fretting over things that already happened, I would tell you everything now."

The turtle closed his mouth at the gravity of the man's tone. _Shell, I missed something big. I wish he'd tell me more about the guys…_

"I _will_ make you a deal," Luke continued. "Your wife wanted me to let her know when you came around. If you promise to rest and not ask questions, I'll let Calley stay here with you. Fair enough?"

Leonardo sighed softly. "Okay."

"You promise?" he pressed.

"Do I have to sign a contract or something?"

"No, I'll go get her. But remember that you promised."

He grunted when the man turned away, and resumed trying to see more of the space. If his brothers _were_ close by, there was a chance he could steal a glimpse of them. Leo glanced to his left again, focusing on the empty bed. _At least, it's empty now. Judging by the sheets, someone was in it at one time…_The discovery of a scrap of purple material on the tray in-between their two beds made his heart skip.

Leonardo had just enough time to get extremely nervous about where his younger brother was when he heard footsteps returning. "_Doc!_" His voice cracked from his attempt for volume.

The man's form was a blur until he came up next to him. "Leo, what's wrong?"

"Where's Don? Where _is_ he?"

"Leo, calm down; Donny's okay. He has a nasty wound that has to be irrigated, and I need a few more minutes to finish up this stage."

"Can I see him, Doc?"

Luke shook his head. "He crashed from an adrenaline shot. You won't hear anything from him until later."

"Adrenaline?" Leo repeated. "This keeps getting weirder."

"I know," the man said apologetically. "But I brought someone else to see you." Luke motioned behind him.

The blond-haired woman came hesitantly into view. "Hey."

"Did I keep you waiting long?" he asked.

Luke cleared his throat. "Don't start with the questions, Leo."

"You're being awful mean today," he complained.

"You call it what you want." Luke glanced at the woman. "I'm trusting you with him."

"I'll make sure he rests, Luke," Calley assured him, and lowered into a chair. She reached over the side rail and clasped his arm tightly. "Don't give anyone a hard time, okay? You don't know what they've been through."

"_That's_ the problem," he muttered.

"No. The problem is we almost lost _all _of you, and they're the reason we didn't."

Leonardo stared at her. "You probably weren't supposed to tell me that."

"I want you to have a reason to be on your best behavior," she returned.

"All right," he relented. "I'm not going to fight them, Calley."

A smile traced her lips. "Good. Are you in much pain? Doc wanted me to get another icepack on you."

"I'm not feeling much of anything right now. My right arm is the only thing I can move. I'm guessing that's…temporary?" he offered hopefully.

She nodded. "Doc said the dosage of everything you're on has a near paralytic effect."

"Am I dealing with something other than a head injury?" Leonardo realized what he was doing with a wince. "No questions. Sorry."

"Your left leg is broken, and they haven't had a chance to set it properly. _That's_ how busy the docs have been."

The turtle sighed as he tried to calculate how many weeks of recovery had just been added to his calendar. _What am I complaining for? It sounds like we almost didn't have a _chance_ to recover. I need to keep my dumb mouth shut. _"I hope we didn't scare you too badly," he said meekly.

"It wasn't your fault, Leo. None of it was." Calley didn't elaborate, and he wasn't going to ask her to continue. She unfolded a new icepack and carefully applied it to his forehead. "Don't try moving around much, okay?"

"I won't." The woman didn't quite meet his gaze, even when he'd stared at her for a full minute. "Calley."

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I'm trying to avoid getting emotional for the moment. I'm just glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here too," he said glibly.

She leaned down and lightly kissed his hand. "The docs believe everyone is going to be all right, Leo. I know you'd rather have all the answers up front, but I think Luke's doing the best thing for you. I want you to relax and go back to sleep."

He arched an eye-ridge toward her. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

"Nope. Trying to make sure you get to _feeling_ better."

"Well, because you said so…" The urge to close his eyes hadn't been strong, but once he gave in the weight of his lids seemed to take over. "Calley?"

"Yes?"

"Have _you_ had any sleep?" he murmured blindly.

"Not yet, but we're taking turns. I'll wait here for a couple of hours, and someone else will relieve me. We're taking some of the responsibility off of the docs."

"So you'll keep an eye on my brothers too?"

"You don't even have to ask me to, Leo."

"Thanks. It'll be easier to rest knowing that you're here."

"Then you've got nothing left to worry about, Leonardo."

He felt her lips caress his cheek and didn't flinch. "Will you apologize to Doc for me? I wasn't trying to give him grief."

"I'm sure he's not angry with you, Leo, but I will if you want me to."

"Or you could thank him again – whatever seems more appropriate."

Calley chuckled softly. "I'll play it by ear."


	35. Sleeping In

Olivia stirred awake, and was startled to find someone's legs nearly on top of her. She rubbed her eyes tiredly as she felt around for her lamp, and then gazed at her cousin, who was sleeping with her head at the foot of her bed. The young turtle giggled as she untangled herself from Reina, and the girl raised her head groggily.

"How'd you end up down there?"

Reina shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I moved." She sat up against the footboard. "Do you know what time it is?"

Liv reached for the red and silver watch on her nightstand and squinted at the numbers. "It's almost 11:00! My dad never lets me sleep this late."

Reina's forehead creased. "They had some kinda trouble last night, remember? Everyone was up late, so maybe they decided to leave you alone."

Olivia grabbed her mask and stretched her muscles slowly while she got her feet. Her morning routine was like clockwork, and rarely interrupted. By now she should have already had breakfast and at least warmed up in the dojo. The young turtle worked with a different person depending what day it was, and some sessions were shorter than others, but it was unusual to skip altogether. "Let's go see what's going on."

Reina hopped to her feet willingly, and followed the turtle out into the hallway. "I have to go to the bathroom. Wait for me?"

Olivia nodded and hesitated by the stair rail, staring down at the Great Room. She saw April sitting with the twins on the couch, reading them a story. Jayden and Charlotte were on either side of the woman, gleefully taking turns trying to turn the pages before April was finished reading them. The sight made her smile, but she was still troubled. The house felt too quiet.

She tapped her arm on the railing absent-mindedly while she waited for Reina to return, but a different door opened before the bathroom did. Her Aunt Becky emerged from Nathaniel's room, with her younger cousin draped over her shoulder. "Morning, _Obachan. _Is Nate still tired?" (Aunt)

Becky nodded. "Hi, Sweetie. He had a late night like the rest of us, but he's the one who woke _me _up."

Olivia laughed. "Then why isn't he carrying _you?_"

"Good question. Why don't you ask him?"

The red-masked turtle circled around Rebecca's back and tapped her cousin's shoulder. "Nate? Are you in there?" He grunted sleepily and Olivia giggled once more. "That's how Ojisan Donny sounds when he needs coffee."

The curly-haired woman laughed. "I could use some too. What about breakfast? Are you hungry? I bet it would perk Nate up a bit."

Olivia nodded, right as the bathroom door opened down the hall. "C'mon, Reina! We're gonna eat."

The blond girl paused to coo over Nate snuggled upon his mother's shoulder. "He's so cute."

Liv grinned at her cousin. "You've got your own brother to play baby with, Reina."

Reina's nose wrinkled. "Jonathan takes all my stuff, and then cries when I try to get it back!"

Rebecca patted the girl's shoulder. "You still love your little brother, right?"

"Yeah, I just wish he wasn't so annoying. Nate's always been nice to me."

Becky laughed while she led the way downstairs. "Well, you don't have to share your space with Nate either. It might be different if you lived together all the time."

Reina brightened. "Is living down here an option?"

"You could share my room!" Olivia offered.

The woman shook her head. "Don't go getting any ideas, girls. I think both sets of your parents would need to have some input in that decision."

"Wouldn't it be so awesome though?" Reina suggested. "Like we're having a slumber party every night."

Olivia thought about it for a moment. "Uh…I usually have to get up early. I think I might get too tired."

"Aw…" Reina frowned. "Do you have to train _every _day?"

The red-masked turtle nodded. "Pretty much. That's how you become a ninja."

"How much practice do you need?"

"I don't know. Probably a 153-million-zillion hours. My dad and uncles have been working a long time."

"It does take a long time," Becky agreed. "But they're good skills to have."

Olivia sighed dreamily. "I can't _wait_ until I can run the roof-tops like them."

Reina's eyes widened. "No, you can't!"

"Why not?"

"They're boys, Liv! You could fall."

She folded her arms sternly in response. "_Girls_ can be ninjas too, Reina. That's why they're teaching me."

"But I don't want you to get hurt."

"Neither does anyone else," Becky said quickly. "Liv's not going to try out the rooftops on her own until they're sure she's ready, okay, Reina?"

Reina rubbed her arms as if she was cold. "I don't know how you go up there with them. I'd be too scared."

Olivia shook her head and a smile reemerged. "No. It's one of the best feelings there is. It's like flying."

"I don't share her enthusiasm, but I've been up there with Mikey," Rebecca added. "Our guys know what they're doing, and they'll make sure Liv does too. What do you girls feel like eating?"

"Mmm…can I have cereal?" Reina requested.

"Sure. Liv, do you want some eggs?"

"No, I want cereal too," the turtle answered. She caught Reina's eye secretively. "I know where Mikey keeps the Sugar Bombs."

Rebecca groaned. "I think your parents would appreciate you eating something other than sugar for breakfast."

"Can we have toast?" Liv wondered.

"Uh…I could run upstairs to borrow someone else's toaster. Jayden keeps getting to ours."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. What if I had some eggs _with_ my cereal?" Olivia suggested.

Rebecca smiled down at her. "Okay. That'll have to do for this morning." The woman paused at the back of the couch. "Morning, April. How are things going?"

The red-head glanced over her shoulder. "We're doing just fine." April looked like she was going to say something else, but then she looked toward the Lab instead. "They took him off the ventilator."

"Girls, would you like to go ahead to the kitchen?" Becky asked. "Can you get your cereal out?"

Olivia nodded. "I can get it, _Obachan_."

"Nate, do you want to go with Reina?" Becky requested of the five-year-old. He raised his head from her shoulder and held out his arms to the blond girl.

Olivia looked back while the eight-year-old led the way into the kitchen with Nate, distracted by what the two women could be talking about. She couldn't hear anything from where she was, so she turned around and kept going into the next room.

Reina placed Nate into a chair at the table, and he settled comfortably onto his knees. His blue-green eyes still looked a little sleepy, but his mood already seemed improved.

"I'll get the bowls and milk, Liv. Do you want some cereal too, Nate?"

"Yeah, I'm hungry. I want some milk."

"I'm not going to fill you up the whole way, okay, Nate? You never finish all of them," Olivia said knowingly.

"Can I have yogurt?"

Olivia glanced inside the fridge and found a plastic cup for him. "Strawberry okay?"

"Yeah, and cereal."

The red-masked turtle fetched a spoon along with the yogurt and took them to her younger cousin, then went on the prowl for her uncle's beloved cereal. She got down on the floor by the oven, and searched past the cabinet full of pots and pans to locate the box in the back. Olivia handed the cereal to Reina, and the girl started pouring it between three bowls.

"Don't give Nate too much milk either," she instructed.

Reina grinned. "But you like _a lot_."

"It's the best part."

Her cousin carried her own bowl and Nate's over to the table, and sat down by the orange-masked turtle. Olivia sat down to her right and dug into the rare treat. As a rule she and her cousins didn't eat very much cereal, and she often envied her Uncle Mike's daily treat. He was known for sharing it with her after one of their longer workouts, and it made the snack seem even sweeter.

By the time Rebecca entered the kitchen, Olivia had already polished off most of her portion. She was considering asking for another bowl, when her mother came into the room behind Becky.

"Hi, Mommy." She went to meet her mother, and the woman wrapped her arms around her tightly.

"Hi, _angelito_." Karina held onto her longer than normal.

Olivia stared up at her curiously. "Mommy, where's Daddy? He didn't wake me up this morning."

"He couldn't, baby. Did you get to eat something?"

"Uh huh – I had cereal."

"Okay. I want you to come with me."

Olivia was mystified as her mother took her by the hand and led her to the next room. April and the twins had disappeared, leaving the sitting area empty.

Karina nudged her toward the couch. "Sit down for a minute."

"Mommy, what's the matter?"

"Things were kind of crazy last night, Honey, and I need to explain what's going on."

"Where's Daddy?"

"He's in the Lab. Your daddy and uncles got into some trouble last night."

"That's what Reina said. Weren't they were working at the Gym?"

"Uh huh. But some bad people were waiting for them, and they got hurt."

"The people?"

"Yes, but your daddy and uncles were hurt too."

Olivia bit her lip nervously. "Are they okay?"

"They will be, thanks to all of our friends. Your daddy is going to be down for a while, but he'll get better, Liv. He's awake, and he'd like to see you."

"Are you coming?" Her voice suddenly felt small.

"Yes, baby, I'll go with you."

"Okay."

Karina took her hand again, leading her into the lab. "We want to be very quiet, all right? Your other uncles are still sleeping, and we don't want to bother them."

"All right, Mommy." Olivia trembled slightly as they crossed the room. She hadn't spent much time in her Uncle Donny's new Lab, but she had a few memories from his old one. It was normally off-limits unless the purple-masked turtle invited her to see something, or someone was hurt.

They went past the first bed where Mike was sleeping, devoid of his orange mask. Karina tugged her hand lightly to guide her to the next one where her father was waiting. The back of the bed was raised to help him sit up, but amber eyes were barely open.

"Raph?" Karina called softly. "I brought Liv."

A half-smile appeared before his eyes opened the rest of the way. "Hey, kid."

Olivia perched cautiously on the stool beside him. "Are you okay, Daddy?"

"I'm gonna be all right. Don't you worry about me." He reached a hand out and she grasped his fingers in return.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. "Daddy, I'm sorry I got mad at you."

"What do you mean, babe?"

"Yesterday. Because you wouldn't take me with you to the Gym."

Her father sucked in such a shaky breath it scared her. "Oh, shell. I'm glad I didn't, Liv."

"Because of the bad people?"

"Yeah, _Kouen_. That was no place for you." (Flame) He let go of her hand and grazed her cheek gently.

"I won't ever get mad at you again."

He chuckled softly and then groaned. "Don't make me promises you can't keep, kid."

She covered his larger hand with her smaller one. "Are you hurt real bad?"

"It coulda been worse. I'm just happy to wake up and see you."

"I'm happy to see you too." Olivia glanced over at her mother. "Does Daddy have to stay in the Lab?"

Karina hesitated, and then nodded. "It's probably going to be a few days before he can move around, but you can still visit with him."

"Is that okay, Daddy?"

"I'll be mad if you don't visit me," he said warningly, but ended with another half-grin.

"I won't forget about you," she promised, and leaned closer to his head. "Maybe I can sneak you some candy," Olivia whispered.

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Liv."


	36. Together

Jazz lightly smoothed wispy bronze curls off her sixteen-month-old's forehead and spent several seconds gazing at the little girl. Alexis had settled down for her afternoon nap more quickly than normal. _Not that I'm surprised. Her night was interrupted too._ The young woman backed away from the playpen, and left the door to little Tim's room ajar so that she would be able to hear the girl when she stirred later.

She went down the steps slowly, and her eyes automatically shifted toward the Lab. As much as she wanted to see the turtles, the woman was trying to stay scarce for the time being. _They're not all awake, and the guys haven't had a real chance to breathe. The docs said we were free to come and go, but if everyone does that, they'll never get any peace to work. Better to let their girls have access to them first._

Jazz looked around the sitting area where Greg, Kouhei and Shunshi were lingering. The television was replaying some basketball highlights, but none of them were paying attention to it. Both boys appeared to be hanging on the sandy-haired man's words.

"…so the panic button was sounding, but Donny managed to shut the thing down. The _next _thing we know, he's getting some nasty call over the radio, demanding whose authority allowed him to turn the siren off. He just kinda sat there for a minute with this panicked expression, and had to make up some bull crap excuse about technical difficulties and a false alarm."

"Was he able to stall them?" Kouhei asked.

Greg chuckled. "Not with conversation. Everything went to hell in a hand basket pretty quickly. Raph, Mikey and Brandon were trying to get Leo upstairs, and now a team of Akiudo sentries was on their way to investigate us in the security office."

Shunshi grinned smugly. "But Donny-san still had ideas."

Jazz smiled with recognition of the story and cleared her throat in the background. "Excuse me, boys. Have any of you seen my husband?"

Greg turned his head. "Yeah – he caught some of the game with us, and then he headed to the dojo. That was about an hour ago."

"Thanks. Carry on." She waved to them and trotted across the room to the connecting hallway.

Jazz knocked on the door of the dojo and waited for a response. It wasn't unusual for the turtles _or _Brandon to get caught up in a workout, and she wouldn't always bother with them if they didn't readily answer a hail.

"Come in!"

She turned the knob and pushed the door open, but then hesitated from going in. "Hey."

Brandon was standing over the punching bag, but lowered his fists when he saw her and reached for a towel off the nearby bench. "Hey, Jazz. What's up?"

She shook her head. "Nothing…that is…I'm not doing anything. Alexis just went down for her nap."

He wiped sweat from his face and allowed the towel to rest over his bare shoulders. "She looked pretty tired at lunch."

"She looked like the rest of us _feel_," Jazz returned. "Except for you apparently. We're all relaxing, and you're in here working your butt off. Not that I'm complaining." She squeezed one of his biceps appreciatively.

Brandon chuckled. "I was bored. I had to occupy myself with something, or I'd be left alone with nothing but my thoughts."

Jazz easily discerned what he hadn't told her. "You still worried?"

"Some…not like last night. I think we'll all feel better when the guys are up to their old tricks."

"Could be a while on a couple of them," she said ruefully. "You may be stuck sparring with Raph's old standby." Jazz gave the punching bag a playful bat, and was surprised when it hurt her hand. "Good night. Are you guys making this thing heavier, or I am getting weaker?"

The man made a scoffing sound. "You're not weak. C'mere."

Jazz stepped over to him and allowed Brandon to gather her against his chest. She was so used to the slight dampness of his recently exercised skin that it didn't even faze her. "Maybe we could be bored together," she murmured halfheartedly into his ear.

The man raised her chin with the palm of his hand. "Are _you_ all right?"

"I think I'm still processing. When I was talking to Donny on the radio last night, I had this wretched day-dream about life without all of them. Bran, what would we have _done?_"

He pursed his lips as he shook his head. "Heck if I know, Jazz. Nobody wants to think about that."

"I didn't want to either, but I did. When I finally started to fall asleep early this morning, I heard one of them screaming in my head. After a couple of seconds I knew it wasn't real, but it took me another hour to close my eyes again." She hid her face against his shoulder with the admission, and he rested his head on top of hers.

"It's over, Jazz," he said quietly. "We might be reliving this for months to come, but they all came through it."

"I don't know if I like this city anymore," Jazz told him honestly. "Every time we turn around, it's something else."

"Trouble isn't limited to Manhattan, this we know. Even when we find time to escape, it seems to chase us down." He tried baiting her with a smile, but Jazz wasn't biting. Not yet.

"I just think it'd be nice for everyone to have a chance to grow old together. Do you think that's only a pipe dream?"

"No," he said firmly. "It's a good goal."

She snorted. "The question is, how many of us will make it there?"

He grinned again. "If Kelley keeps cooperating with us, who knows?"

Jazz swatted his shoulder, and had the impression of an insect ricocheting off a Buick. "I'm being serious."

"So'm I. This team needs all the high-powered members it can get."

"You're impossible."

"Well, that makes two of us."

"What'd _I_ do?"

His lop-sided smiled was almost irresistible. "It's not about what you do – it's who you _are_."

"That makes as much sense as an umbrella in a hail storm." Jazz was surprised when the man suddenly covered her mouth with his, but surrendered to it without hesitation.

"I've learned that it doesn't always pay to fight a genius with logic."

Her eyebrows rose. "Who taught you that?"

"Mikey."

Jazz rolled her eyes. "Figures."

* * *

Waking up to being incredibly sore wasn't an unusual experience for the orange-masked turtle. It'd happened enough times in the past couple of decades that he wasn't even shocked by it. He had a groggy feeling that he was in the Lab before he'd finished opening his eyes, but he _wasn't _prepared to find someone staring back at him.

"Well, hello, Sunshine."

Mike peered at Marcus for nearly a minute before recalling how to talk. "Hi, Marc." The words grated across his throat, and didn't encourage him to say anything else.

"I bet you're pretty thirsty."

He nodded slowly and the doctor smiled at him.

"Hang in there for a minute, and I'll help you sit up." Marcus picked up a remote to raise the back of his bed a few more inches. "Your brothers want to see you better too."

"Brothers?" he said dully.

"Yeah, the better looking, older ones," Raphael inserted. His attitude was spot-on, though he didn't achieve much volume.

The orange-masked turtle glanced to his left and laid eyes on his older brother in the bed next to him. "In your dreams, Raphy," he whispered meaningfully. As long as he didn't exert much force behind his voice, he found he could manage an entire sentence.

"I bet you two could pick up this argument later," Marc suggested, and held out a sport bottle to Michelangelo.

He took a couple of sips, grimacing at the pain that accompanied swallowing. The sensation was familiar, but it didn't make it less troubling. Mike gave the dark-haired man a mock-stern look. "What'd you guys do to me this time?"

"Oh, not much. Just saved your shell again," the man said casually.

"To put it mildly." The addition of the oldest turtle's voice made Mike look around his red-masked brother to see Leonardo.

"You _too_, Fearless?" Mike's brow creased while he turned back to Marcus. "Was there some group check-up scheduled that you didn't tell me about? But then Donny would have to be here."

"I _am_ here," Donatello called in return. His voice sounded rough, but it was stronger than his other brothers.

"Holy cow," Michelangelo muttered.

"Those are appropriate sentiments," Marcus told him. "You mind waiting here for a second? Luke wanted me to wake him if you chose to join us."

Mike glanced to the left and right. "Do I have somewhere else to be?"

The man shook his head regretfully. "Not for a few days, I bet."

The instant Marcus exited through the curtain that separated them from the rest of the Lab, Mike turned his head toward Raphael. Since he was the closest, he would be the easiest to question. "Raph, what the shell?"

"You 'member anything from the Gym, Mikey?"

Michelangelo was completely still for a few moments. _Gym. The Gym. When was that? I thought I was gonna be taking pictures with Raph. _His first attempt to recall the building was coming up empty, so he glanced at his brother again. "When we were going?"

"Last night," Raph said wearily. "You can't remember any of it?"

Mike silently considered it again, and this time the memory of a brilliant flash scorched his mind. "It was…a trap."

"Yeah, Bro, it was." The red-masked turtle sounded relieved that he'd recalled something.

"Is everyone okay?"

Raphael raised his hand a couple of inches and shook it from side-to-side. "Sorta. We're better than we were, and so are _you_. Took your own dang time coming around, as usual."

Mike felt a small grin emerge, but he was too concerned about the brothers he couldn't see well to relax. "The guys in one piece?"

"Not completely, but the docs are good at puttin' us back together."

"Raph…how'd we get out?"

His brother shook his head. "You gotta talk to Donny about that."

Mike frowned. From what he could recollect, his purple-masked brother had been injured early on. "What do you mean?"

"Genius called for help."

"I didn't have a choice!" Donatello squeaked. "We were stuck!"

"_You_ weren't, Donny," the older turtle negated.

"Do you still think I should have up and left the rest of you?" Don demanded.

The _swoosh_ of a curtain prevented the conversation from continuing.

"I _know _I'm not already hearing arguing," Luke proclaimed. "I figured dealing with all four of you at once would be an interesting experience."

"We're not fighting," Don said softer.

"Good. Keep it up," the blond doctor said firmly, and came to lean against Mike's side rail. "Hi, Mike. It's nice to see you."

"You too, Doc." He tried to shift to see the man better, and was assaulted with a wave of agony through his midsection that left him gasping. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, but couldn't even turn his head.

"I'm so sorry, Mikey." Luke's voice was soothing, but it didn't do much to help him. "I'll kick in the stronger painkiller."

The orange-masked turtle took several shallow breaths. "O—kay."

"You're gonna be all right, Mike," Raphael added swiftly. "Don't try doing nothing else, Chucklehead."

"…Won't…"

Michelangelo heard Luke doing something in the background, but didn't try to watch him. He was content not to move at _all_ if it meant he wouldn't have to feel that again. When fingers explored his wrist, his eyes locked on the blond doctor's face.

"It won't take long for the dose to have an effect," Luke assured him.

"Good to know," he replied tiredly.

"There's also a significant chance you'll sleep like a log, but that's preferable to the alternative."

"Okay, Doc. One question?"

"What, Mikey?"

"How does a log sleep?"

"You can tell _me_ when you find out."


	37. Approval

When Shunshi walked off the elevator, his breathing automatically quickened. He wasn't sure how to feel when he received the request to come see the purple-masked turtle after dinner. He was elated to be able to visit his friend, but the mistake with Viper had nearly cost him his life, and he knew it was going to be addressed.

Shun _didn't_ expect to come into an empty Great Room. The hour was too early in the evening for everyone to have retired, yet there wasn't a soul in sight. The boy shrugged to himself and continued toward the sitting area, heading for the Lab. He was so intent on the destination, he nearly passed by the figure waiting in the wheel chair.

The turtle waved to him. "Hi."

The teen desperately tried to camouflage his surprise. "Donatello-san." He stopped within a couple feet of his friend and bowed stiffly.

Donny gave him a strange look. "What's with the formality, Shun? Come over here, would you?"

He took the last few painful steps and stared down at the floor rather than looking the turtle in the eyes.

"_Hey_," his mentor said pointedly. "What's wrong?"

Shunshi cleared his throat. "Donatello-san, I recognize my mistake. I'm sure you have things to say, but I want you to know that I understand how I failed."

"How you failed…?" The turtle seemed confused.

Shunshi sighed inwardly. _He must know what happened, even if he did not see it with his own eyes. I hope he will not force me to repeat the entire experience back to him_. "I was distracted, and I put myself in danger. I could have been the reason someone else was hurt too."

Donatello shook his head. "Shun, will you sit down for a minute?"

He sank into an adjacent chair obediently. Shunshi forced himself to hold the turtle's gaze and words began spilling out rapidly. "I know I'm not ready. I am nothing like you or your brothers were at my age. I was not even trying to copy you that night; I did not have time to think-"

"Shunshi, _wait_. I haven't even said anything to you yet."

"You have all warned me of the danger involved, and I _still_ managed to almost get killed."

"So did _we_," Donny inserted. "Shunshi, my brothers and I are the ones who got in trouble. _We're_ the ones who walked into a trap, and ended up putting ourselves in danger. Do you honestly think I asked you to come down here so I could lecture _you_ on being caught off guard?"

Shunshi was silent for several seconds. "Well, I guess…I'm sorry. I am disappointed in what happened, and I thought you would be too."

"I'm not disappointed in you, Shunshi; I just have a couple of questions. Is that okay?"

Feeling cautiously relieved, the teen sat back in his chair. "Yes, Donny-san."

"I've heard the gist of things, but I'd rather get some specific details from you. Will you tell me what happened after you kicked the door open?"

"The door hit the man outside. I did not realize it was this 'Viper' at the time. My only intention was to surprise him, so that I might have an advantage. When he fell, he lost control of his gun. I attempted to kick his weapon out of the way, but it ran into the building instead. Viper tried to retrieve it, but I managed to slow him down with a spinning back kick, and sent the gun down the stairs."

"What made you push the gun away? Why didn't you try to pick it up?"

Shunshi swallowed. "I was not thinking clearly, Donny-san. My first reaction was to get rid of it."

"It was your instinct," Don corrected. "And you have a reason for doing it. Why do you think that is?"

"It was a large gun. I don't think I would have used it correctly…nor did I want my opponent to have a chance to get it back." Shunshi paused for another long moment. "I was not prepared to kill him either, even had I been trained properly."

Donatello nodded. "For the record, I believe getting rid of the gun was the right choice. Because you didn't hesitate, you were able to contain your attacker, and change the entire momentum of the fight. There is a very short window of time in which you can go from being the victim to successfully overwhelming your assailant. From what April and your sister filled in for me, that's exactly what you did."

"But you realize how the fight _ended_, Donny-san? Not only did I fail to control him, I became a hostage."

"Getting distracted can be deadly in a fight," the turtle allowed. "But it can also happen to any of us. Every time my brothers and I come home from a serious confrontation, we take the chance to review what happened. There have been too many mistakes to count through the years, Shun. The best thing you can do after an experience like that one is _learn_ from it.

"Don't let it throw off your training, or make you feel like a failure. Your instinct and your skills allowed you to prevail over a man who's more than twice your age. Viper was a blood-thirsty thug who's run the streets for more than a decade, and _you took him down_."

Shunshi allowed himself to smile for the first time. "I almost beat him."

The purple-masked turtle grinned. "You got a lot closer than I or my brothers did. I'm not disappointed in you, Shunshi, and I don't believe anyone else is either."

Donatello extended his good arm toward him, and the teen got to his feet, then bent down to the turtle's level. Shunshi felt a little awkward in the position, but being able to embrace his mentor after everything that had occurred was a gift he wouldn't pass up for anything.

After a couple of seconds Shunshi pulled away with a solemn expression. "Do you remember when you asked me to search my motivation, to discover why I want to be a ninja?"

Don nodded once more. "I recall that."

"I don't see myself as one of you four, patrolling the city to help keep peace every night. But the value of being able to protect myself and my friends from trouble would still be worth it. I know that it will take time, but if you are willing to teach me, I want to learn much more."

Donny smiled. "No more solo studies or stunt attempts?"

Shunshi nearly cringed at the thought of the attempted board-breaking several days before, though he sensed the turtle was joking. "No, Donny-san. I will follow you and your brothers…whenever you are ready to teach me, that is."

The turtle laughed humorlessly. "I think we'll all be limited to supervising some katas for a while. I bet Brandon and Kat wouldn't mind getting hands-on with you though."

Shunshi cocked his head. "I started with karate, am learning ninjutsu with you…and those two are experts in Taikwondo. It makes me wonder what kind of fighter I will become."

Donatello snorted. "With many teachers comes a blend of skills. Hopefully you can get the best from _all_ our worlds."

* * *

Donatello knew that his reprieve was short-lived, but he meant to enjoy the "freedom" while it lasted. Jayden was busy running circles around the wheel chair, having been firmly reprimanded by Jenna not to try pushing the tires again. Charlotte was content to lie in his lap and ask questions. The little girl had shown tremendous curiosity over his injuries.

Her fingers lightly traced his sling. "Daddy, what is this?"

He smiled, even though it was the third time she'd asked. Don was avoiding wearing the sling for long periods of time to prevent his arm from becoming too stiff, but it was a good visual reminder for the twins to be more gentle than normal. "It's helping keep my shoulder safe while it heals."

"Oh. Can I touch it?"

"As long as you keep being careful."

"Does it _hurt_?"

"Sometimes, but our docs give me medicine. That helps."

"Can I look at it?" She grasped the edge of the sling and tried to peer inside.

He chuckled. "You won't be able to see much. Most of the injury is on the _inside_."

"Daddy, is your arm broken?"

"Not really, no; there's nothing wrong with my bones. It's got more to do with um…the tendons in my muscles." Donatello intentionally searched for words that would make sense to her, and then flexed his left arm. "We have a special set of muscles that helps our shoulder do all kinds of things, and the tendons work together to connect them to our bones. I accidentally tore a couple of those tendons, and that's why my arm is hurt."

"Oh. Then will it get better?"

"It'll take some time and special exercises, but it should heal just fine, Charlotte."

"And you can play with us again."

"Yes, _Hime._" (Princess) He stroked the top of her head and brushed a finger over her lighter purple bandana. "It won't be _that_ long." He glanced back as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Jenna smiled down at him. "You have to wait for your permission slip. Doc hasn't even 'let' you out of the Lab yet."

"That's only because he doesn't want me climbing the stairs."

"They know best for you guys…and I know best for _these_ scamps. It's past somebody's bedtime."

Don snorted. "Are you talking about me, or our kids?"

"If it was past your curfew, you can bet we'd have heard from the warden already. C'mere, Charlotte, it's time for bed." Jenna held out her arms to the little girl, and she willingly went to her mother.

Jayden circled around the front of the wheelchair with one of his trademark grins. "Daddy, can I kiss your leg?"

Donny nodded with amusement, but controlled the urge to laugh while his son bent down to kiss his ankle.

"Mommy, I want to kiss Daddy's leg," Charlotte requested.

The raven-haired woman put the turtle down, and Charlotte wrapped both arms around his foot before kissing his ankle too.

"Night, Daddy! Love you so much, love you too!" she proclaimed.

"Love you so much, love you too!" Jayden added.

The pair went back and forth several times with the phrase before allowing Donatello to get a word in edgewise.

"I love you so much, love you too, twins. Good night."

The two small turtles ran for the stairs, and Jenna followed behind them. The woman stopped about halfway and threw another glance over her shoulder.

"Let me get them settled, and I'll be back in a bit."

"The warden may have come to retrieve me by then," he called impishly.

"I still know where to find you." Jenna returned to chasing the twins, and disappeared from sight into the upstairs hallway.

The purple-masked turtle exhaled softly. Luke had given him a longer trip outside the Lab than he'd expected, but that _would_ be coming to an end soon. He was satisfied enough by the opportunity to talk to Shunshi and see his twins outside of the medical environment that he willed himself _not _to complain when the doctor came down on him.

He'd only been alone in the sitting area for a couple of minutes when the uncomfortable stillness began to weigh on him. The turtle squirmed in his chair, puzzled by the sudden increase in his pulse rate. Donny took a couple of slow breaths to counteract the confusing feeling, but was secretly thankful when he heard the door of the Lab opening.

Donatello looked back to see Luke coming and shot the man a grin. "Have you come to repossess me?"

"Did you get to see everyone you needed to?"

He nodded. "I'm ready to go back."

Luke's gaze perused him like a hawk. "Are you feeling that bad?"

"I'm just tired, Doc," he said quickly.

"I can't imagine why."

"I can't figure out why _you're_ not. We're going to have to pay you guys overtime for this month."

The blond man rolled his eyes. "Since when have you _ever_ paid me for overtime? You'd be bankrupt."

Donatello chuckled. "You've got us where you want us, Doc. If I were you, I'd be renegotiating my contract."


	38. Allies

Leonardo silently stared at the ceiling above his bed. It _felt_ late, but he couldn't tell what time it was without his watch. If one of the docs was nearby, they were being extremely quiet. _It's been four days already…they probably don't think they need to hover as much._ The only thing the blue-masked turtle could hear within their curtained enclosure was his brothers' steady breathing.

The fact that he was wide awake made little sense, but for the pulsating throbbing which was increasing in his forehead. _Someone must be close by. I'd better speak up before it gets worse. _He fumbled around for the remote that was secured to the side rail of the bed. Leo squinted in search of the "call" button under dim light that banished total darkness.

He was only centimeters away from activating the remote when someone's breathing broke from a regular pattern, heaving quicker than normal. Leo raised his head slowly, bracing a hand carefully against his temple while he rose a few inches on his other arm. The direction the sound traveled from and its close proximity led him to look toward his purple-masked brother.

"Don?"

"Yeah?" he responded after a beat of silence.

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine."

The oldest turtle sighed. "How about the truth now?"

Donatello turned his head his direction. "Not being able to sleep is hardly a crime."

"I'm with you so far, but there's usually a reason for it."

"What's your excuse?" his brother challenged.

"Headache is picking up. I was about to call one of the docs when I heard _you_."

"You heard me what?"

"I'm going to ask for help anyway. If something's bothering you, it'd be a good time to speak up too."

Donny shook his head. "I don't need anything, Leo."

"Then why are you _awake_?"

"It's really not unusual. I've always been a night owl."

The blue-masked turtle held his brother's gaze. "Don, can you be honest with _me_, or should I enlist one of the docs to help me wrench the truth out of you? What's it going to be? My head's starting to pound, so I'd appreciate if you made up your mind quickly."

The younger turtle huffed softly, and Leonardo thought he wasn't going to answer.

"That's fine. I'll go ahead and call one o—"

"Leo. This isn't physical, all right? It's only in my mind."

"What is it, Bro?"

"Honestly, it's not serious enough to worry about. I'm finding it easier to sleep during the day when there's more activity."

"And what, you're lying awake all night?"

"No, it's just interrupted. There are a lot reasons my sleep pattern could be out of whack—"

"You already said it's mental, Don, so there's no sense in trying to blame it on something else. Are you struggling with…" Leo hesitated. "Look, whatever it is, you can tell me."

Donny broke eye contact with him. "If it was simple to explain, I'd have done it sooner. I've dreamed and relived some of that night, but the silence is the most uncomfortable part."

"Silence?"

Don nodded. "There's no logic or rational thought to apply to this. It's all inside my head."

Leonardo's eye ridges rose. "It may _be_ inside your head, but that doesn't mean talking it out won't help. When you say the silence bothers you, how bad is it?"

"It's not so much when we're lying here like this, Leo. It's waking up from a dead sleep, and feeling like I'm completely alone. There are moments when it seems like I'm suffocating, or something is crushing me."

"And you find yourself panicking?"

"I know what it sounds like."

"Then why are you ashamed of it? We've all experienced that type of stress on some level. Have you talked to anyone else?"

"No, but that doesn't mean I wasn't _going_ to."

"Don…" His first instinct was to reprimand his brother, but something stopped him. "You really bore the brunt of this one, huh?"

"Hardly," Don murmured. "My shoulder may be out of commission for a few more weeks, but I think I got off easier than the rest of you."

"Maybe physically. But you also dealt with more trauma in the moment than anyone else. You had to watch the rest of us go down, and I imagine that contributes to what you're experiencing."

The purple-masked turtle didn't say anything for several seconds. "You know how we secretly always thought it would be better if the four of us died together, rather than being separated one by one? I blew a hole in that theory."

Leonardo winced. "I don't think there would be anything great about it either way, Don."

"You know what _else_ wasn't great? Being forced to choose what happened next." Bitterness added volume to Donatello's voice.

Leo sat up farther on his elbow. "I'm grateful for what you did. We all are."

"You wouldn't know it from talking to Raph."

"It's going to take him longer to admit it, Donny. Whether he's willing to or not…I'll say I'm thankful you made that phone call. If I'd been in your position, I hope I would have done the same thing."

Don shook his head. "When it came down to it, keeping my mouth shut felt like it would have been an act of betrayal to our family and our kids. You know, these people weren't put in our lives to be under our protection, Leo. We call them our friends, but how many times have we tried to _control_ their actions? I believe we've been very unfair to them through the years."

Leonardo didn't have to think hard to find examples that confirmed exactly what his brother said. He exhaled heavily, intentionally avoiding _Donny's _gaze this time.

"What gives us the right to tell them to hold back, Leo? And you know why we do it? Because we don't want to lose _them_. Yet if one of us gets lost in the fray, that's something they just have to deal with? The expectations we've put on them are not only unreasonable, they're hypocritical. We'd _never _back down from helping them without a fight. How can we force them to do something like that to us?"

"Practically speaking, we can't. We've _never_ been able to stop them from risking their lives for us. Think of Hillsboro, Dayton, the Congo, or numerous other times when our friends dared to help us without our permission," Leo finished sarcastically.

"Then why do we still bother to give them such a hard time?"

The blue-masked turtle shrugged. "Because they matter to us so much, and because…we sort of see it as our _duty_ to put our lives on the line."

"You don't think they have a sense of duty toward _us_, Leo?" Donatello shook his head.

"I didn't say you were _wrong_." Leo sighed again.

"I think we need to take into account the fact that our allies are _adults_, and not our children. We don't get to decide what's best for them or tell them what to do. That doesn't mean we're not allowed to have an opinion about the risks they take…but we've got no right to shut them down."

"You guys gonna set all our friends free to be loose cannons?" Raphael inserted suddenly.

The purple-masked turtle grunted. "Perfect timing, Raph. One round with you ought to tire me out enough to sleep."

"Ain't that why you invented your fancy _drugs_, Donny? Why haven't you asked the docs for something?"

Leo turned his head toward his other brother. "I hope we didn't wake you up, Raph."

"You forget that none of us are sound sleepers, Fearless. Is something wrong with you two? There some reason you're having this talk at…well, I don't know what time it is, but _I'm_ still tired."

The soft _swoosh_ of a curtain prevented either of them from answering Raphael.

"You should be tired," Caleb informed him. "It's only about…oh…four in the morning. I'm sure you could all use at least a couple more hours of sleep."

Leonardo raised a hand. "I could use a little more painkiller too."

The bespectacled man turned on a brighter light and stepped over to examine his IV unit. "I meant to check that earlier. My apologies, Leo."

Leonardo offered him a smile. "You've had a lot to do over the last couple of days. I didn't know you were taking the overnight watch."

"We split it up so _no one_ has to be up all night. Is there something I can do for you other two, or is there another reason you all happened to be awake?"

Raphael nodded his head toward Leo. "Ask them. Their jabber-jaws woke me up, but I should probably thank 'em for not leaving me out of an important conversation."

"Raph, you're _wrong_," Don said bluntly. "You're wrong, and you know it. I don't even care if you admit it openly."

"Why 'm I suddenly wrong, because _you_ said so?"

"We've been wrong all along!"

"We're not gonna agree on this, Donny, so you're probably only wasting your breath."

"Hold it," Caleb cut them off sharply before another word was spoken. "I don't know what you two are arguing about, but this isn't the time to do it. I'll bring the hammer down if I have to."

The way the man raised his eyebrows was more comical than threatening, and it only succeeded in drawing laughter from all three.

Raphael gasped painfully, but the grin never left his face while he clutched his chest. "Oh shell, Caleb. _That_ was funny."

"It won't be funny if I have to drag _Luke_ out of bed, will it?"

The red-masked turtle instantly shut his mouth, and it was Caleb's turn to smirk.

"Yeah, I thought so. I know how to instill a _little_ fear."

Leonardo cast a glance at Donatello. "Do you want to consider taking something?"

"I'm okay, Leo. I'm ready to go back to sleep."

"Taking something for what?" The man pressed. When Don didn't immediately reply, Caleb glanced at Leonardo. "Would you like to share something with the class?"

The blue-masked turtle stared at his younger brother instead of the doctor.

Donatello rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm having some…symptoms. A little Post Traumatic Stress, probably."

"How'd the rest of us miss _that_?" Raphael demanded. "Donny, what's going on?"

"You missed it because it's been pretty minor," Donatello replied. "No real panic attacks, just…trouble going to sleep and _staying_ asleep."

Raphael's response was a muttered curse. "How long were you gonna try to hide _that_ under your shell?"

"He didn't hide it," Leo spoke up. "Lay off him, Raph."

Michelangelo pulled himself up a couple of inches by his railing. "Is it breakfast time yet?"

Caleb shook his head. "Not quite. It was nice of all you to keep me company for a while, but you should be getting some more rest."

"But I just got here," Mike murmured.

"And you'll probably have the easiest time going back to sleep," Caleb said. "I'm going to get a couple of things, and I'll be right back."

The instant the man was out of earshot, Raphael cleared his throat. "You ain't gonna try to do this by yourself, right, Genius?"

"Do what?"

"You _know_ what I'm asking ya."

"Raph, I'm okay."

"You say that now, but it could get worse."

"I understand the tendencies, Bro. I have no intention of fighting anyone. I'd appreciate if you'd make the same consideration toward our _friends_."

"Not gonna happen, Donny."

"Would you at least consider looking at things from their perspective?"

Mike sighed dramatically from his bed. "I have no idea what's going on. Why did I bother waking up?"

"Sorry about that, Mikey," Leo apologized swiftly. "All of this needs to stop for the time being." He glanced at Donny on his left side, and shot Raphael a stronger look on his right.

"You can put it off all you want, Leo. Doesn't mean I'll change my mind." Raphael dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The blue-masked turtle rolled his head the other direction and held Donatello's gaze for several seconds. He rose off the pillow and pointed at his brother as he mouthed his final words on the matter: _I'm with you._


	39. Breakfast

Michelangelo laced an arm around his purple-masked brother's back, guffawing at the memory of Raphael's parting jab. "I knew he'd be sore about Doc signing our permission slips."

"We're not _really_ free – you realize that, right?"

The orange-masked turtle merely grinned. "You can bet Raph would enjoy it if he got released from the Lab first."

Don's smile was smaller, but it felt genuine. "Who wouldn't? The docs aren't sorry to see us go. I think we were starting to wear them out. But you've got to feel a _little_ bad about leaving Leo and Raph back there."

"We won't forget 'em, Bro. Doesn't mean I shouldn't enjoy giving Raph a hard time when he can't chase after me."

"The only thing you'll earn is a royal shell-kicking later. Raph never forgets that sort of thing."

"Then I'll worry about it when it really matters. Right now…" Mike trailed off as a delicious scent caught his attention. "I'm more interested in what's going on in the kitchen."

Donny glanced at him. "You probably shouldn't overdo it yet."

"Can you let me have five seconds of freedom without raining on my parade?" Mike shook his head.

"I _am_ still a member of the medical team."

"You're also a prisoner who's just been turned loose. You ought to live it up with me for a little while."

"There weren't bars on our door the last time I checked."

"Can't you be happy and humor me a bit? Tell me that smell doesn't make you ravenous."

"Of course I could eat, but—"

"But? Why does there have to be a but?" Mike steered him in the direction of the kitchen, yet kept his pace slower than normal. Donatello wasn't forbidden from walking on his injury, but even _he_ wasn't tempted to push his brother physically.

The orange-masked turtle smiled wider the moment he saw Karina by the waffle iron. "You've got it smelling good in here, Sis!"

The Latin woman flashed him a cocky look. "Someone has to keep everyone fed and happy. What with your extended vacation…"

"Vacation? More like a jail term."

Donatello's fist struck his shoulder. "Lay off the prison references."

Mike's eye ridges rose. "As if you've never referred to Doc as our warden?"

"But _you_ don't know when to quit."

Michelangelo chuckled, but made no attempt to defend himself. He focused on Karina's "assistants" who were sitting at the table, and went up behind his five-year-old. Nate was occupied with the mixture he was stirring, and he didn't seem to notice his father behind him.

"Are you helping your _Obachan, _Nate?"

The smaller turtle looked back at him, and instantly dropped his whisk. "Daddy! I'm helping cook!"

"I see that, Buddy!" Mike bent down to hug his son, but resisted the urge to pick him up. Lifting was out of the question for at least a couple more weeks. "What are you making?"

"Strawberry waffles! They're gonna be _good_!"

Mike nodded. "It sounds good. Are you going to eat some of those?"

"Yeah! Do you want my waffles?"

"You bet I do. Can I sit by you, Nate?"

"You wanna stir it, Daddy?"

"I'm having more fun watching you."

Nathaniel beamed at him. "I need more strawberries. Lots of strawberries!"

"I'm cutting you up a couple more," Olivia told him. The young red-masked turtle was seated with a cutting board and a butter knife.

Mike was tempted to chuckle over how precisely she was slicing fresh strawberries, but didn't want the seven-year-old to think he was laughing at her. "You're doing a great job over there, Liv. You got any spares?"

"Do you want a strawberry, _Ojisan_?"

The orange-masked turtle crossed his arms and opened his mouth wide. "Throw it right here, Kid."

Olivia snuck a furtive glance at her mother, who presently had her back to them. After another beat of hesitation she tossed the berry to him. The fruit glanced off his chin, earning a chorus of giggles from the young turtles.

"C'mon, Liv, one more. Right here!" he encouraged it.

Olivia didn't even check if Karina was watching this time. Amber eyes squinted back at Michelangelo briefly before she let another strawberry fly. He kept track of the fruit as it soared, and adjusted at the last minute to catch it perfectly.

The orange-masked turtle pumped his fist. "The winner and still champion!"

Karina shook her head as she approached the table. "_Somebody's_ feeling better."

Mike crossed his arms casually. "Can't keep a good ninja down."

Donny snorted. "Especially when he has the energy of a hyperactive three-year-old."

Karina smiled. "Are you going to eat like one too?"

"Not if Donny gets _his_ way. There's a spoil-sport in every group."

"Gotta hate the guy who wants to make sure you don't puke your guts up," Don said dryly.

Nate giggled loudly. "Ew, Daddy! Are you gonna throw up?"

Mike winked at him. "Not on your life, Nate."

"Do you want to add the last of those slices, Liv?" Karina requested.

The red-masked turtle scraped the rest of the strawberries she'd chopped into the mixing bowl, and Nathaniel scooped up the whisk.

"I'll stir it!"

"Okay, Nate, you finish up those strawberries, and I'll get the new batch of waffles on. Think we'll have enough to feed everyone?"

"Ummm…" Nate exchanged a glance with Mike and then looked back at Karina. "Enough for us!"

"Good answer, Nate." Mike held out his hand, and the five-year-old slapped his palm.

Karina turned to Donatello. "Have you been cleared for caffeine?"

"Uh…" It was the purple-masked turtle's turn to hesitate. "It hasn't actually come up. I suppose it would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission."

Mike made a scoffing sound. "Sure, _you_ can cheat, but you wanna hold me back?"

Donny gave him a forlorn glance. "It's been two weeks, Mike. There's such a thing as mercy."

"And as a full-fledged 'medical member', you don't think you need to ask for permission from your teammates?" he teased.

"Can you keep your big mouth shut long enough for me to have one cup of coffee? I won't say anything about how many waffles you eat."

"You've got a deal, Bro."

"And what do I get out of this deal?" Karina wondered.

Mike chuckled. "Free babysitting? Also known as more 'quality' time spent with your husband?"

She swept bronze hair behind her ear, completely unaffected by the teasing jab. "_Quality _hardly does Raph justice."

"Please let that be the end of your speech," Don requested.

Karina grinned at the older turtle. "_He _started it."

Olivia's forehead creased with irritation. "I don't need a _baby_sitter."

"It's not like that, Liv," Mike said quickly. "I just dig hanging out with ya."

"Nice recovery, Mike," the woman called over her shoulder.

"Doing my best over here!"

Rebecca's laugh was the first thing that alerted the orange-masked turtle to his wife's presence. He turned in his chair and got to his feet as the curly-haired woman came toward him.

"Hey, Beck."

She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, clearly apprehensive about the possibility of hurting him.

"I'm not broken," he reminded her, and went in for a kiss. Exuberance over their morning release and general gratitude over being alive led the turtle to hold onto her lips longer than Becky probably expected. If the lifting rule wasn't being strictly enforced, he might have dipped her too.

Rebecca face was slightly flushed when he released her, but she was also smiling. "Good morning to you too."

"It is _now_." He circled an arm around her waist and guided the woman to the chair beside him. "You in the mood for waffles?"

"Do waffles require a mood?"

"Not in this group," Don offered.

Nathaniel climbed down from his chair and trotted around the table to get to Becky. "Hi, Mommy! I was cooking!"

Becky leaned down and pulled the young turtle into her lap. "So _you_ made our breakfast?"

"Uh huh, I helped! There's _lots _of strawberries."

"Really? How many did you put in there?"

"Um…probably fifty-three-hundred."

"That's a lot of strawberries. They'll take us forever to eat," Becky emphasized.

"No, we're gonna share some," Nate said proudly. "_Ojisans_ have to eat too."

Becky glanced toward the Great Room. "Are you talking about Leo and Raph?"

The five-year-old nodded. "We made theirs first, with blueberries!"

With that announcement, Karina removed a set of waffles from the iron. "We don't have many blueberries, and Raph is partial…"

Michelangelo snorted. "Everyone in this room knows which turtle you favor, Karina."

The Latin woman gave him a sly smile. "I like to keep my man happy." She turned her back on the table to finish setting up a tray, and then went to retrieve a coffee mug. "This should tide _you_ over, Donny, and I'll be right back to start the rest."

Mike snickered quietly while his brother savored the aroma of the brew, and adopted his best impression of Sméagol. "It came to me, my own, my love…my _Precious_."

Donny never looked up from his coffee. "Shut it, Mikey."

"Would you like to be left alone with her?"

Becky flicked his shoulder. "Are you determined to get into trouble?"

"I've got some time to make up for."

"No, you really don't." Donatello took a sip of the still-steaming liquid and sighed contentedly.

"Do you have any taste-buds left, or have they all been burned off?" Mike laughed.

His brother's gaze flicked over. "Why so fixated on me?"

"I don't have food yet. I have to occupy myself somehow."

Donny groaned. "Only _you_ would try to ruin this for me."

"I'm not trying to ruin it; I'm having fun messing with you."

"I can tell." Donatello looked at Rebecca. "What in the world are we supposed to do with him for the next few weeks? Without training to burn his energy, there's nothing left to fall back on."

"There's always something to fall back on, Donny," Mike said importantly.

"What's that?"

"Video games."

"I only have one shoulder, Mikey! Where exactly does that leave me?"

"Watching me play video games?"

"Daddy, I wanna play!" Nate insisted. "I wanna be the race car."

Mike nodded approvingly. "Mario Kart it is, Nate, right after breakfast. Break 'em in young, that's what I always say."

Don rolled his eyes. "I think I'd rather have a glimpse of the outdoors."

"It's supposed to be pretty hot today, but the humidity hasn't kicked in yet. Jazz said the sky was clear." She turned to Michelangelo. "Kat and Brandon have been rotating workouts with the kids. Would you prefer to rot Nate's brain before, or after?"

Mike nudged Nate's arm. "Mommy knows best. You do a good job, and we can play afterwards, okay?"

"Can I be Mario?"

"I'll save your remote and everything." Mike cast Donatello another grin. "You still gonna abandon me, Bro?"

Rebecca cleared her throat. "Maybe _I'll_ play you for a while. How would that be?"

He brushed a hand over her waves, smoothing tendrils off her cheek. "Sounds awesome. You can be the Princess. She's no Jungle Girl, but she'll do in a pinch."

Becky gave him a stern look at the mention of her nickname. It was forbidden to be spoken in the presence of others, but that didn't always stop the orange-masked turtle.

"Just for that, _you_ can be the Princess," she informed him.

"She's not really my type, but okay then…"

The woman swatted his shoulder. "I'm picking your car too."

"_Nobody _touches my car."

"Except for the Jungle Girl," she said sweetly.

"I'll let you have your fun, but I'm not taking it easy on you, Becky. You're gonna have to beat me fair and square."

"Maybe you'd fair better with Baby Mario on the Bit Bike."

"You wouldn't punish me like that."

"You mean like you've been teasing your brother?"

Donatello chuckled. "Revenge is sweet. I could put off going outside to watch him using the Bit Bike."

"Hey now," Mike protested. "It's not nice to gang up on people."

Becky shook her head with a winning smile. "We're not ganging up on you, hon. I'm going to take you down all by myself."

"Sounds like a challenge."

"It probably won't be."

"You are so on, Beck. And when I beat you on that ridiculous bike, it'll be even funnier."

"We'll find out, won't we?"

Don set down his coffee mug with an evil laugh. "This, I'm watching."


	40. Respect & Chapters

Raphael had rarely been so glad to see his own chair. Though the recliner wasn't as "broken in" as the beloved chair he'd grown up with, the girls had strictly forbidden the old one from making the trip to their new home. He'd begrudgingly accepted the fresh recliner, which made up for its lack of dilapidated comfort by being larger. _It ain't half bad, but it's gonna take years to catch up with my other one._

His ears perked up at the sound of the elevator, and he glanced around the back of the chair to see Karina exit into the hall. Raphael's gaze lingered on his wife, drinking in the sight of her summer-darkened skin. The woman tousled her bronze hair innocently; for once unaware of the effect she was having on him.

"Hey!" She suddenly took notice of him. "Did Doc sign off on you already? He said it might be a couple more days!"

He smirked. "Nah – he got sick of me. That's the trick to gettin' out of the Lab, Kari."

"Have you found a trick for not ending up there to begin with?" Her tone was light, but the question made the red-masked turtle wince.

"It's not something I plan, Chica."

"I know," she affirmed, coming to stand by his chair. "I've missed you, that's all."

"Well, I can start getting back into the swing of things now…slowly."

"Do you have a laundry list of restrictions?"

"You know Doc. Surprised he's gonna let me climb the stairs," he grumbled.

"Just make sure you don't hurt yourself in the process, or you'll never hear the end of it." The twinkle was back in Karina's eyes.

Raphael rolled _his_. "That's the last thing I'll do." He glanced around the room curiously and looked back at the woman. "It's awful quiet down here."

She nodded. "The kids are having a dance party upstairs with Mike and Brandon. Everyone else is probably winding down for the night."

"The Chucklehead ain't overdoing it, is he? He's still got restrictions of his own."

"Not that I saw, Raph. He was mostly egging the kids on, and I doubt Brandon will let him do anything stupid."

Raphael dropped his forehead in his outstretched palm. "_How_ well do ya know your brother, Kari?"

She laughed. "Bran's different right now, Tortuga. He's still in protective mode over the four of you."

Raphael huffed his irritation. "He's gonna have to quit _that_."

"Why?"

The red-masked turtle resisted the urge to cross his arms. "We can't have you guys worrying about us every time we step outside the door. We're all gonna recover, and get right back into ninjutsu."

"How did _you_ feel after Brandon came back from being kidnapped by the Akiudo, Raph?"

"That was a different situation."

She shook her head. "The only thing that's different is your standards. You apply one to your friends and family, and another one for you and _your_ brothers."

"_Dagone_ it, Kari, why do you have to jump on this bandwagon?"

"I don't know anything about bandwagons, Raph, but how about this? Our friends are the reason all of you are alive. I think they deserve a little more respect than you're giving them."

"_Respect? _Who said I don't respect 'em? That doesn't mean I want them to die on my account."

"Yet you'd be happy to die for them."

"I wouldn't put it that way, Kari, but yeah. If I had to die so they could live, I'd do it. It's got nothing to do with not respecting them. You can keep going around in this circle, but it won't change my mind."

"Then why are they here? Why keep friends around at all? Everyone who comes in regular contact with you is eventually going to be put in danger. We're a testament to that. If you want to protect your friends so badly, you ought to cut ties with them. Then they could go back to living a normal life without you, and you could get on with yours."

"I can't do that, and I wouldn't want to!"

Karina leaned down to his chair so that she was only a few inches from him. "You know why they're still here, why _all_ of us are? We chose this, Raph. You and your brothers may have allowed us to enter your world, but we made the decision to stand by you, no matter what.

"Part of standing with you means _supporting_ you when things get rocky. I'm not telling you that every one of our people belong on the front lines fighting the bad guys. But you don't have a built in 'right' to tell your friends not to act when someone's life is on the line. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean _they_ should back down.

"What if your place had been exchanged with Donny's? Would you have _honestly _died silently inside that Gym, to make sure that no harm came to anyone else?"

Raphael had asked himself that very question a number of times, but arrived at no definite answer. "I don't _know_, Kari. I guess I woulda had to call you, if nothing else."

"And you understand I would have sent the cavalry after you too?"

He shrugged. "There's no escaping all of you, is there?"

Karina stroked the back of his head, lightly fondling the tails of his mask. "You said you wouldn't _want_ to."

"No. But you still piss me off."

The woman chuckled. "There's no escaping that either."

Raphael looked at the floor for a long, silent moment. "They don't really think I disrespect them, do they? That's not what I'm trying to do."

"Those are my words, not theirs, Raph. But I can say with certainty that our friends will eventually resent it if you don't allow your gratitude to overshadow your protectiveness."

"So I should show my love by lettin' them go out and get themselves killed?"

Karina snorted. "Baby steps, Raph. I'd start with just saying 'thank you.'"

* * *

As Leonardo stared up at the nighttime sky, he couldn't help wishing they were at Lotus Salvus. The city lights obstructed most stars from sight, but the warm breeze provided _just _enough air circulation to make spending his first evening of freedom in weeks on the roof worthwhile. _Being "free" is a relative term, of course. _

The recovery time for both his broken leg and linear fracture would mean several more days of downtime before he could even _think_ about returning to training. _Doesn't mean I'm not happy to be out of the Lab, but I've still got a ton of waiting ahead of me. _

He brushed away the distasteful thought and tightened his grip around Calley's waist. The two had been lying on an oversized chaise lounge in silence for longer than Leonardo bothered to keep track. The blue-masked turtle sensed that the woman was thinking, but was in no hurry to press her to speak her mind. Calley wasn't known for keeping things from him, so he was confident she'd tell him her thoughts when she was ready.

The woman's hand rested on top of the arm encircling her midriff, and she slowly turned her head to face him. "Are you comfortable enough?"

He smiled. "_This_ is the most comfortable I've been all summer."

"At least in the last few weeks." She snuggled against his left side. "I don't want to keep you up _too_ late."

Leonardo groaned. "Let me guess. Doc gave you his own list of instructions?"

"It wasn't a list, per say. I'm supposed to make sure you _stay_ comfortable."

He nuzzled her forehead gratefully. "Then you're doing your job."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, but knowing you, I might have to lay down the law."

"Hm?"

"Just because you have the crutches doesn't mean the docs want you running around. You've got a lot of resting to do."

"I've _been_ resting."

"And you'll keep it up until you're completely healed."

He half-chuckled. "I don't remember you being this tough on me in the past."

"It's only because I want to see you back on your feet, _without_ complications."

"I'd like to see that too," he murmured, talking to himself more than his wife. He wouldn't admit to Calley how dizzy he'd felt on the elevator. _Makes me understand why Marc gave me crutches instead of a walking cast. He must have figured I'd need the extra stability, but this is getting old already. I can't believe we let Don run amok around the Akiudo's headquarters with _his _fracture._

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Leonardo blinked as he broke out of thought and looked back at Calley. "Yeah. Are you?"

She exhaled quietly. "I'm getting there; it feels like another chapter has closed. I'm _pretty_ sure there aren't any more crazy men from my past who'd like to kill me, or use me to get to you."

"You realize that with the Akiudo _and_ the Dagos, the gangs already had a beef with me and my brothers anyway? We're good at making our own enemies."

"You're good at protecting people."

"And ticking others off along the way. Can't please everyone," he said dryly. "Point is, you've been more of a…a partner in trouble with us, rather than the instigator. The Dagos didn't even _try_ to kill you."

Calley shook her head. "What they did was worse."

"It's also over…like you said, another closed chapter. Those 'technicians' of theirs were able to implicate at least half a dozen of the gang's senior members. They'll go to jail, Viper is dead…and we _know_ the Akiudo won't be rising again."

The woman smiled weakly. "You made sure of that."

"The _police_ should have made sure of it," he muttered. "But that's our lot in life: cleaning up after the criminals the authorities either can't reach in time, or the ones they never realized were a threat."

"You fill an important hole for this city," she said softly. "But you fill a huge hole in this family too. If we'd lost all of you back there…Leo, I don't know what we would have done."

He sighed. "I'm sorry it got cut that close, Calley. We didn't know what we were walking into. I'm used to trusting my instincts, but they were compromised by anger this time. I know I can't afford to make that mistake again."

Her fingers softly stroked his cheek. "The past is for learning," she reminded him.

"Indeed it is." Leo bent his head nearer to hers, and they shared a lingering kiss.

The contact was cut short by the quiet _thud _of the door hitting cinderblock, and Calley immediately sat up.

"Hey, guys," Becky called. "Sorry to bother you, but I think _somebody's_ getting sleepy. Tim wanted to say good night to you."

Calley got to her feet to meet the recently turned _three_-year-old turtle who was rubbing his eyes. "I'll put him down, Becky. Thanks so much for bringing him up. Are the other kids still going strong?"

"_Most_ of them. You know the twins barely require sleep. I could keep them up until midnight, and they'll still be awake by 7 tomorrow morning." Becky waved at Leonardo. "You guys enjoy the rest of your night. I'll see you later."

The blond woman carried Tim over to the lounge, and nestled the little turtle in Leonardo's arms.

"Hey, Tim. You getting tired?" Leo asked.

"I stay wi' you?"

Leonardo grinned. "For a little longer. I have a feeling your Mommy might put us _both_ to bed soon."

Timothy rubbed his head against Leo's plastron. "I not tired."

"You're not?" The blue-masked turtle cast a wink at Calley. "Well, you can just stay here with me until you're ready to run around again."

Tim yawned. "Okay, Daddy."

He clasped his hands around his son's shell as Calley sat back down next to him. The woman stroked Timothy's head but said nothing more as the little one relaxed.

When Leo knew Tim was asleep, he lifted an arm to search out the woman's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Something told him that there would be more joy in the next chapter of their lives than any of the previous ones.


	41. Future

_It's been another long year. With all the joking we do about paying the docs overtime or giving them bonuses, this time feels more appropriate than ever. We sure don't make things easy on them, or the rest of our family. They may have come to expect it from the profession we cling to, but I doubt anything could have prepared them for all _four_ of us being in physical therapy at once._

_Leo never retained any events from that evening in the Gym. The rest of us assured him that he's lucky, and for the most part, I think he's accepted it. Our fearless leader appears to be at peace; something for which I'm extremely grateful._

_The last few months have had their emotional ups and downs along with the slow return to normal life, and full-time training. I honestly wasn't thrilled with Doc when he prescribed group therapy as part of the healing process. I thought he was going to shine a spotlight on the triggers _I'd _been dealing with, and assumed the others would be ganging up on me. _

_It couldn't have been further from the truth. I hadn't taken into account the turmoil Raph and Mike took away from the Gym. The sessions are probably the best thing Doc could have done for us. We don't always talk about that night, and sometimes…we don't talk much at all. It's created a kind of solidarity in our suffering, and it's driven home an important fact: we're not alone. We'll never _be _alone._

_Whether it's "turtle luck" that's woven our lives together with our friends or a design greater than any of us can picture, I draw the same conclusion. This is what a family is _supposed_ to be. It doesn't matter if we share the same genes, a common background, or similar stories. That may be what makes us individuals, but our collective bond is what makes us allies._

The purple-masked turtle stared at the computer screen for several seconds. It had taken over two months from the horrific night that nearly took all of their lives for him to begin recounting it, and _another_ two months to get to this point. The project had started as a typical entry which would be assimilated with the rest of the medical records in his journal. Over the last few weeks of stopping and starting to recount the tale, however, it had become something more.

Many of the personal thoughts he'd included in the file were things he hadn't spoken out loud yet, not even to his brothers or Jenna. It'd taken longer to type the chapters than he'd planned, but as he guided the mouse to save the document, Donatello had a sense of finality. _There are probably more things I could add, but I don't think I _need_ to._

The purple-masked turtle slid the keyboard back into its correct position, and pushed away from the desk. His eyes fell on the clock in the right-hand corner of the screen, and his stomach growled on cue. Breakfast had been about five hours ago, and he was beginning to feel it. Donatello muted the soft strains of Collective Soul coming from his computer, scooped up his phone off the desktop, and hit Jenna's speed-dial.

"Good _afternoon_," she greeted him with a reproaching undertone. "Are you planning on giving that machine a rest any time soon?"

"Yeah. Actually, I think I'm done, Jen."

"Done, like it's _finished_?"

"I'm sure I'll go back and do some editing, but the main portion of it feels complete. I'm about to come down."

"Wait for me. I want to come up first."

"You know where to find me."

Donatello hung up his phone and replaced it on his belt. He swiveled his chair around to take in the rest of the third floor Lab, and smiled at the sight of sunshine filtering in the windows. It didn't get too warm in the Blue Mountains this time of year, but the beauty of experiencing Fall at Lotus Salvus more than made up for it.

He waited patiently for Jenna to appear, slightly mystified that she'd decided to come to _him_. Donny stretched his arms behind his head, and gave his right shoulder a couple of extra flexes. The rotator cuff had healed well for him, and what little pain remained was bearable to continue training through.

The turtle got to his feet when he heard the sound of someone on the steps, and met the raven-haired woman at the door. "Hey. I'm sorry I took so long. I didn't mean to work all morning. I just hit my stride, and I didn't want to stop. Never thought to look at the clock."

"_You_ lost track of time on the computer?" Jenna's laugh was loud enough to echo through the space. "Who'd have thought that could happen?"

Donny grinned. "You didn't come after me. You're supposed to be giving me a time limit, and you didn't enforce it today."

"I would have, if you'd waited much longer to call me. You've got to be getting hungry."

"I could eat."

"I figured. You're the last to lunch, as usual."

He raised his eye ridges innocently. "There still some food left, isn't there?"

"We know how to take care of you guys, Donny." Jenna laced her hands around his neck. "Are you doing okay?"

Don glanced over his shoulder at the computer. "Yeah. I'm glad it's about finished."

Jenna gazed at him silently for a beat. "Are you gonna let me read it?"

He swallowed. "After it's been edited, it'll be open for 'public' records."

"I know it hasn't been easy."

"No, it wasn't…but I needed to do it. Not just for the sake of keeping track of medical history, but…it had to be written."

The woman embraced him and he gladly clutched her against his chest. They remained together without speaking or moving for several moments, neither in a hurry to let go of the other. Donatello didn't stir until he heard her sniff, and then saw the tears in her blue eyes.

"Sorry," she said, as though it was a confession.

"You don't _ever_ have to be sorry. I love you, Jen."

"I love you too." Jenna released her grip of his neck. "But I think it's time you saw the _real _light of day." She tugged his hand, pulling him in the direction of the stairs.

The purple-masked turtle allowed himself to be guided down to the first floor, happy to heading for the kitchen. He heard Jazz's laughter before they'd even made it through the doorway, and he automatically grinned.

Brandon and Jazz were locked in each others arms, and the pair didn't bother separating when Don and Jenna entered the room. Diamond glanced up from where she was resting on the rug, and her tail thumped the floor in welcome to him.

Donny cleared his throat with a smirk. "This _is_ still a room for cooking, isn't it?"

"Occasionally," Brandon retorted. "What took _you_ so long to get your shell down here?"

"I was finishing my last chapter," he said causally.

Jazz untangled herself from the man at once. "Really? You're done?"

"For the most part. I was told there might still be some food around here."

Jazz snapped her fingers. "We hid the rest of the sub in the oven until your brothers were done, and then I moved it to the microwave." She walked over to the machine and hit a couple of buttons on the display. "I'll heat it back up for you."

"Where is everybody now?" Don asked.

Brandon looked at him incredulously. "You think we could keep track of _all _of them?"

Don exchanged a smile with Jenna. "Do we know where _our _kids are at least?"

"The kids are all out back," Jazz told him. "Bran and I sent them away with Shun so we could clean up the kitchen."

"And you managed to find some time for _yourselves_," Jen remarked. "Most ingenious."

Jazz smiled smugly. "We believe in mixing business with pleasure." She wheeled around when the microwave beeped, and retrieved the hot plate for the turtle. The woman motioned him to a chair, and then sat down in one beside it. "Are you going to be all right with letting people read this stuff?"

Donny nodded. "I believe I'm ready." He shot Brandon a quick smile. "With as crazy as the rest of you are, I don't have to worry what anyone thinks of _me_."

Brandon snorted. "Tell us how you _really_ feel, Don."

He laughed. "I'm going to eat before you decide to get hungry again."

"When have I ever stolen food from your mouth?" Brandon protested. "You're confusing me with one of your brothers."

"You fit right in with them, Bran. That _was_ you and Raph finishing off the rest of the pizza at 2AM, wasn't it?"

The bronze-haired man made a violent slashing motion across his throat behind Jazz's back.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Who did you think you were fooling, punk? You had our whole room smelling like pepperoni and bacon. You could have brought me a piece, if nothing else."

"Well…you see…I wanted to. But once you get Raph started, he pretty much doesn't _stop_."

"Sure…blame it all on Raph. I see how it is."

Donatello shared another look with Jenna and laughed. "In this house, leftovers are an anomaly."

* * *

The purple-masked turtle ambled out the back door and took a moment to savor the afternoon sunshine. He jammed his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt while he walked down the small incline to the picnic table where the kids were congregating with Shunshi at the helm.

The picture of all _eight_ of the group's children hanging out at the table made Donatello wish for a better camera. _That's our future down there. They look fantastic together._

Shunshi waved and pointed to the bench beside him. "Hi, Donny-san! Are you going to join us?"

He smiled fondly at the teenager and eyed the triple chocolate cake he'd smelled baking that morning. "Do you have _room_ for one more?"

"Plenty. Go ahead and scoot down Jayden-kun."

The three-year-old beamed up at Donatello as he sat down on his other side. "You gonna sit with us?"

He patted his son's shell. "Yep. It feels nice out here...little warmer than it has been."

Shunshi nodded. "It seemed like a good idea to come out."

Something collided with Donatello's knee and he shot Olivia a quick glance across the picnic table.

The red-masked turtle looked utterly innocent. "What?"

Don felt the pressure of small hands fingering his skin, and looked under the table to find Alexis hanging onto his leg. "Did you lose something?" he asked Olivia.

Liv giggled while she ducked under the table to pull out her cousin. "Lexi's still pretending it's her fort." She bounced the little girl in her lap and pointed to the table. "You need to eat your dessert before someone else decides they want it," she told Alexis.

The purple-masked turtle glanced down the line of happy diners and had to agree. Everyone seemed content except for Jayden, who hadn't bothered to touch his plate yet. Donny stole a small corner of the cake his son was eating. "That's _good_, Jay-Jay."

"Hey!" The small turtle pretended to get upset, but the smile never left his face.

"You don't want to share with me?"

"Daddy." Jayden tugged Donatello's arm. "That's dicusting."

Don looked down, bewildered. "What's disgusting?"

Jayden pointed at the small mound of whipped cream. "It stinks."

"Has it been in the sun for too long?" Donny picked up the plate to smell it himself, but he never expected small hands to come up _underneath_ it. He was startled enough to jerk, but not to avoid the plate from being smashed against his forehead.

The purple-masked turtle shook his head amidst the sound of raucous giggles and fiercely wiped away frosting and whipped cream. "Did I _really_ just get played by a three-year-old?"

Charlotte pulled on his bandana from behind. "Do you want to share with me too, Daddy?"

"Oh, no. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice—" Another plate bounced off the side of his head before he got to finish, and the turtle rapidly gained his feet. "Now hold on!"

His words did nothing to dissuade the tidal wave of children. He was accustomed to escaping his _own_ kids, but the sheer mass of bodies overwhelmed him to the grass. Donny's eyes grew wide when he saw Shunshi jump into the mêlée too, but he barely had time to shout before an entire cake exploded in his face. The task finished, small bodies scattered like the wind to avoid him.

Donatello staggered to his feet as he rubbed his eyes and searching for attackers. He settled on Jayden, who was dancing from side-to-side a few feet away. "Who taught you that trick? Was it your Uncle Mikey?"

Jayden giggled and backpedaled to elude him. When Donny noticed Shunshi out of the corner of his eye, he abandoned his son to chase the Asian boy.

The teen only made it a couple of feet before Don caught up to him and captured him under one arm.

"Did Mike set all of this up? Truth, now!"

Shunshi was laughing too hard to reply right away. "He said it would be fun!"

Donatello groaned. There had been a drought of pranks in recent months due to the gravity of their injuries, but the merciful cease-fire was bound to end. _Figures Mikey would turn them on _me_. Well, I'm not going to let this fly._

"Do you have any cake left?" he demanded.

"There are at least two more of the rounds!" Shunshi squeaked. "He _wanted_ us to use them all, but I thought it was too much!"

"Good. _This_ is called retaliation. Who knows where Mike is?"

Nate waved his arm in the air. "He's hiding!"

Donny strode over to the five-year-old. "You tell me where he is, and I'll shoot your Nintendo DS to the top of the repair pile."

"In the rec-room! C'mon, I'll show you!" the orange-masked turtle proclaimed.

"Good! You take me to your dad, Nate." Donatello only paused long enough to arm himself and then faced the other kids with a grim smile. "As for the rest of you, there are plenty of leftovers. Shun wants to have some _fun_ too, don't you?"

Don couldn't resist casting a glance over his shoulder as he pursued Nathaniel, and grinned at the sight of the teenager fleeing from the mob of children.

_The future is bright indeed._

* * *

***You know me by now, right? A prank had to be coming...it's like my calling card. This was an interesting journey for me. I'm glad I took it, no matter the outcome of the fic. I'm grateful for everyone who came along and provided their support. That support led to a series that lasted much longer than I ever anticipated. You've all made this a very worthwhile learning experience. **

**Some of you already know that I'm taking a break of sorts. I'm not done writing - far from it. It just so happens that I'm trying to take the leap from the pages of fanfiction to attack an original storyline of my own. I don't know that I'm prepared for the task, but I'll regret it if I don't try. I prefer to focus on one project at a time, because I like giving a story my undivided attention.**

**This doesn't necessarily mean I won't write more fanfiction. There could definitely be more chapters for Drabbles of the Heart, and I have plot bunnies in the back of my mind that involve the future of this entire clan. I don't know whether I'll use them at this point, but the possibility exists. I don't have anything else to say except...thanks. I probably wouldn't have learned how to tap the writer inside of me without the encouragement of people on this site.**

**I'll see you around.**


	42. Better Together

***What's this? I had to throw in one more chapter, because you guys have overwhelmed me. 300 reviews for my mini fic? ::is humbled:: Some people wanted to see Mike get a little justice. He gets it, and then some. Please enjoy. :)**

* * *

Leo's head jerked up when the door to the walk-out basement was flung open. He couldn't stifle a startled gasp when he saw the messy state of the purple-masked turtle. "You weren't supposed to go outside! I thought you were working."

His brother's eyes narrowed. "Did you have something to do with this?"

Leonardo shook his head rapidly. "Absolutely nothing, Don. Raph and I sort of heard through the grapevine that Mike was going to attempt something, so we steered clear."

"Thanks for warning _me_." Donatello stayed on the other side of the door, but gave Nathaniel a little push into the room. "Where's your dad hiding?"

The five-year-old cast a sly grin over his shoulder. "I don't know."

"You said you knew where he was, Nate!"

A faint snicker announced Raphael's presence as he entered from the hall. "Did 'y forget how to use silverware, Donny?"

"Say one more word, Raph. I _dare _you." The younger turtle threateningly displayed his remaining ammunition.

"I ain't the one who attacked you, Genius."

"You also didn't bother to share the information you had."

Raphael shrugged. "We didn't think you'd be down this early. Tell you what though – I'll go get the Pipsqueak for you. Would _that_ make you happy?"

"You know where he is?"

"I'll hand-deliver him. Be back in a second." Raphael turned the corner into the hallway, and Nathaniel chased after him.

Leonardo cast a glance at their retreating forms, and decided to talk fast. "Mike really wasn't trying to target someone in particular. It could have been _any _of us, depending on who decided to join the kids. Raph and I want to plan something for _him_ later. How about you let this go, and team up with us?"

"Who says I can't do both? He'll be less suspicious of retaliation if I go after him now too."

The blue-masked turtle chuckled. "Okay, Bro. Whatever you think."

"How'd you figure out his plans in advance?"

"Tim told me, Charlotte told me…you can't expect kids to keep a secret that big."

"Which is why we won't say anything abo—" Don cut off at the distinct sound of dragging feet.

Leo motioned to him for silence, and his brother nodded.

"OW, Raphy, I can walk, I can walk!"

Raphael chuckled evilly. "Get it over with, Chucklehead."

Michelangelo stopped struggling in the older turtle's grasp for a moment when he made eye contact with the purple-masked turtle. "How about a rain check?"

"How 'bout you get your shell outside?" Even Nate latching onto Raphael's leg didn't slow him down while he shoved Mike through the door frame.

The small turtle shot through the door after his father, and Raph promptly locked it behind them. Leonardo hopped to his feet to look through the window, and grinned with satisfaction as he watched Donatello pelt their youngest brother with the remaining cakes. He saw Nate scooping up pieces off the cement and knew the encounter was far from over; not with Michelangelo egging the five-year-old on to defend him.

"I hope this don't mean _we're _missing out," Raph said pointedly.

Leo gave him a secretive glance. "Not by a long shot. Don figured he'd be less likely to suspect something tonight if he got him back right now."

"He gonna help us?"

"He's in, Raph."

"Still gonna need more people."

"It's taken care of. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut for a few more hours."

"Since when do I give stuff away?" Raphael scoffed.

"You get eager sometimes."

"You're not gonna suck the fun out of this, are you?"

"It was _my_ idea for us to gang up on him!"

The red-masked turtle flopped down on the couch and propped his feet up on the cushion. "I'll make sure Mikey knows it too."

* * *

Raphael relished in the fragrance of the open fire mixed with hot dogs, along with an undercurrent of bug spray. The combination of scents was reminiscent of the freedom that Lotus Salvus offered, and always a welcome addition to an evening at the mountain hideaway. _We could work out a fire at home too, but it wouldn't be the same in New York. There's no replacing the feeling you get from this place._

The clash of metal on metal called him away from drawing any more comparisons between their two homes, and Raphael looked over his shoulder to catch Charlotte and Tim mock-fighting with two of the roasting tools. He rapidly gained his feet and plucked the long skewers out of the would-be fencers' hands.

"We don't play with sharp things," he told them sternly. He snuck in a half-smile as Leonardo approached them. "At least, not 'til you're older."

Leo shook his head. "Didn't I just take one of those away from you, Tim?"

The three-year's old smile was his only defense. "Um…maybe?"

The blue-masked turtle crossed his arms. "_Uh huh_. I want you to both sit on opposite ends of the log for a little while. Go."

Raphael hid a snicker as the small turtles scampered away. "I might expect something like that from Jayden, but Charlotte?"

"I'm sure Tim was encouraging her. She's quick to follow someone _else_ into trouble."

A sudden high-pitched wail made Raphael want to cover his ears, even though they were outside. "Alexis is definitely Jazz's kid, no doubt about that," he muttered, and looked around for the source of the toddler's distress.

Raph picked the little girl out a few feet away, rooting around on the ground to retrieve something. He and Leonardo only had time to take a couple of strides her direction, when Jayden reached her first. Something about the way the three-year-old patted the girl's back was almost comical, but the red-masked turtle held in his laugh.

"It's okay, Lexi, it's okay," Jayden soothed. "You can have _my_ hotdog. "

"That's very nice of you, Jayden," Leo told him.

The little purple-masked turtle gave him a huge grin. "I ate three!"

Raphael guffawed loudly. "I bet you did!" He elbowed Leo meaningfully. "Everybody thinks me and Mikey are the bottomless pits. You wait until these guys grow up."

"Well…most families have to set up college funds. We can start saving up so the rest of us don't starve," Leo said reasonably.

"I think we'll all have to contribute to that one," Jazz inserted, coming up behind them. She scooped Alexis up off the ground. "You 'bout ready to go home?"

"No! Dog!" She grasped the hotdog bun tightly in her fist, as if her mother was going to steal it from her.

"You have time to finish your hotdog, Lexi." Jazz rested the girl on her hip. "You guys gonna head back soon?"

Raphael gave her a conniving smile. "We'll get around to it."

Jazz winked at him. "We can wrangle the kids."

"Act normal around Becky, okay? If she catches wind of anything, she'll blow our cover," Raph reminded her.

"I got this, Turtle. You're not the only one who can scheme, y'know."

He gave her a dark look. "How could I forget?"

Jazz smirked. "Okay, well…have fun."

The red-masked turtle sought out Olivia to say goodnight as most of the group started packing up for the short hike back to the house using the last of the fading daylight. After seeing his little girl off, Michelangelo was his next target. He hooked an arm around his youngest brother's neck and yanked him down onto the log.

"Easy on the merchandise!" Mike complained.

"Why? You gonna shatter into a million pieces?"

"You'd feel bad if I did."

"Ah, quit your whining, Chucklehead."

Donatello dropped to an old stump on Raphael's right. "You guys don't feel like heading back yet? I could call it a night if anyone else is tired."

The red-masked turtle shot him a murderous glance. _What is he _doing?_ We have this all planned out! If we start back now, it'll ruin everything! _Donny raised his eye ridges innocently in return and Raphael hardly contained a growl.

"Tired?" Mike repeated the word as if it was a foreign concept. "The night is _young_, Donny, and I've got a few more hotdogs to eat."

"If there are any leftover from Jayden," Leo added, sitting down in the fire circle. "It's such a nice night anyway. It'd be a shame to waste it. It'll probably be too cold after this."

Mike shook his head. "Yeah, so no being a spoil-sport, Donny. We don't have to rush home or nothing just because the sun goes down. Not like we have a curfew, right, Raphy?"

Raphael chuckled, but it wasn't for the reason his little brother probably imagined. When he made eye contact with Don again his brother smiled, as if to say, _"See? I knew what I was doing."_

"No curfew for us, Mikey," he agreed. "Grown turtles can stay in the woods for as long as they want."

Leonardo ran a finger over the facing of his cellphone and replaced it on his belt. "Or until our wives call us to come home."

* * *

"…Are you _sure_ we don't have any more marshmallows?" Michelangelo found it hard to believe. _Betcha Raph is stashing his own around here. Just gotta get him to admit it._

"I'm sure," Leo said dryly. "I told you, we only had two bags."

"I knew I shoulda brought my own," the orange-masked turtle muttered. He glanced at his watch, and the glowing numbers informed him that it was pushing 10pm. It was still technically early enough to go back to the house to restock on supplies, but he wanted to spend some time with Becky too.

Donny stood and stretched. "I suppose now that the food's gone, you're probably ready to go home."

Mike grinned. "That's as good a reason as any."

Leonardo rose to begin the process of putting out their fire. "We should take the new short-cut back. Raph and I both thought it was faster."

Michelangelo shook his head. "With as many times as we've been through these woods, there's no way _you_ guys found a quicker way home."

Raphael snorted. "Wanna bet, Pipsqueak?"

The youngest turtle folded his arms in return. "What'll you gimme?"

The two oldest turtles exchanged a glance.

"I dunno, Leo, what do ya think? Dish duty for two weeks might cover it."

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "Sounds fair. Which side of this argument do you fall on, Don?"

Michelangelo gave his purple-masked brother the saddest eyes he could muster. _C'mon, Bro, you gotta pick me!_

"I have to go with what's familiar," Donny answered. "I guess Mike and I will take that bet."

Mike whooped and thumped an arm over Donatello's shoulder. "The triumphant twosome!"

"You ain't triumphant _yet_, Shellhead."

He smiled sweetly. "Only a matter of time, Raphy."

Now that mention had been made of a race, Mike had a hard time standing still while Leo made sure the flames were completely out. He stayed close to Don's side, ready to lunge at any given moment. He knew better than to take his oldest brothers for granted; Raphael in particular was known for cheating in such contests.

Michelangelo couldn't have been happier when the others were finally prepared to go their own direction. "See you suckers later!" He nudged Donatello's side right before he took off, not bothering to wait for a response from their brothers.

The purple-masked turtle had the only flashlight, but it wasn't really needed on such a well-worn path. The faint moon-light that filtered through bare tree branches was plenty for Michelangelo to find his way by.

"Keep up with me, Donny!" he called over his shoulder. "We _both_ have to beat them!"

"I'm right behind you, Mike! Don't you worry about me."

"Those guys were crazy to make this bet. Some people have to learn the hard way, huh?"

Don chuckled. "That they do, Mikey. That they do."

They sprinted for the next five minutes in silence, with Donatello only a couple of steps behind Mike. When the lights of the house came into view in the distance, the orange-masked turtle put on another burst of speed.

"C'mon, Donny!"

"Still behind you!"

Mike spied a familiar fallen tree across the path a couple of yards away, and immediately went into launch mode. He was airborne for a couple of second before he landed, not on the soft earth he'd anticipated, but a fluid that immediately captured his feet. His momentum propelled him forward even though his legs were stuck fast. The fact that he was falling hardly had time to register before he landed flat on his plastron.

Confusion was the first emotion that lit through his mind as he struggled to rise on all fours. It took a few seconds to sit up in the strange muck , and the clothes he'd donned against the cool evening weren't helping matters. He was so bewildered, he could only think to call his brother's name.

"Grab a hold of this!"

Mike couldn't see his brother terribly well, but yanked hard on the rope that'd been thrust into his hands. He expected Donny to help him up, and was rewarded with a heavy dousing of the same darkly colored substance that had trapped his feet to begin with. It was only _then_ that he understood.

"DONNY!" There was no hope of seeing his brother now, but he definitely heard him laughing. A wet towel struck his plastron, and Mike at least had the presence of mind to catch it.

"Better get a move on, Bro! This is still a race!"

The sound of Don's retreating footfalls meant he had no more time to lose. Michelangelo rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, and threw the towel aside. He latched onto a tree root and used it as leverage to help him escape the cleverly laid trap. _Humph. Donny's not getting away that easily! _His body felt a little stiff from the sticky drenching, but that wasn't going to stop him.

With some coaxing he fell into the rhythm of another sprint, telling himself that he'd catch up his traitorous brother in no time. His eyes were busy scanning for a sign of Donatello in front of him, and he couldn't be bothered with the ghostly white patches of material in the naked trees over the path. _If they're trying to scare me, it's not—_

The rain of leaves and pine needles that cascaded over his head halted the turtle for a couple more seconds, and made him decide to abandon the regular path altogether. _Forget this. Get back to the house, and I can catch all of them._

Michelangelo darted straight into the trees, running as fast as he dared over the uneven soil and tree roots. He was relieved when he reached the edge of the forest line that signified the beginning of Lotus Salvus' property, but then seriously irritated to see all three of his brothers hovering by the back porch.

"You're slower than _molasses_, Mike!" Leo's voice rang out to meet him.

_Molasses. Nice_. The orange-masked turtle was half-tempted to go back into the woods rather than face their teasing. _But how can the king of pranks run away when his loyal subjects strike back? I must not show fear. _The thought made it hard not to smile as he stalked across the yard toward the rest of the turtles. "Three against one? How is that fair in _any_ universe?"

His brothers were laughing much too hard to respond, and he stamped his feet to get attention. "Hey! What'd I do to deserve all this?" He stretched out his arms plaintively, and found them covered in leaves, twigs, and pine needles.

Leo was the first one who could breathe enough to talk. "Do you really _need_ to be reminded?"

Raphael shook his head. "You ain't the only one who can dish it out first, Chucklehead!"

"And you!" Mike turned to Donatello. "You were supposed to be my teammate!"

"You turned my own son against me," Donny retorted.

"Jayden was the first to volunteer today!"

"You corrupted him, and now you have to live with the consequences."

"Oh, this isn't over," Mike assured him.

"It never is," Don replied. "But you might want to come in a little closer."

The orange-masked turtle took tentative steps. "Why? You're not done torturing me yet?" His eyes shifted rapidly over all three brothers, but they had nothing in their hands.

Raphael grinned wickedly. "What makes you think ya can't trust us, Mikey? You scared or something?"

"No – but you ought to be. The only thing worse than my pranks are my retaliations!" His speech was meant to strike fear in their hearts, but the flood of warm water that crashed over the railing of the deck above him sort of ruined the moment.

Mike shook his head violently, flinging water droplets along with it. He focused on the deck and saw the shadows of two men that he immediately recognized. "You guys are going on my list too!"

"You can't come in the house like that!" Greg told him. "You look like the Thing that crawled out of the swamp!"

Raphael snickered. "I think it's a vast improvement."

"You guys are all hilarious tonight. You've got no idea how much trouble you're in."

"It won't be the first time," Brandon said glibly. "Are you going to stay put? We really _are_ trying to help you now."

"It's gonna take about twenty more buckets to do _me_ any good." He fixed on his brothers again, and gave them a begrudging smile. "You played your parts well. But this is only the beginning."

A second bucket of water cut down on the impact of the threat, causing him to choke before he could talk again. "Could you guys give me a _warning_ at least?"

"Sure, Mike. Shut your mouth and stand still. We'll take care of the rest," Brandon instructed.

The orange-masked turtle obeyed, but managed to sneak another devious look to his brothers. _To take them down together, or to take them on one by one, that is the question. Well, I can figure it out later. I have many hands at _my_ disposal to help out too. These group pranks are more fun than working alone. _

"Sleep in fear tonight, dear brothers."


End file.
